THE  INVADER'S  SON 


UNIT.  OF  CALIF.  LIBRARY.  LOS  ANGELES 


The 

INVADER'S    SON 


BY 

WILLIAM  ANTONY  KENNEDY 

Author  of 

"Ai  Britons  See  It,"  "The  Making  of  Peter  Dunn," 
"The  Master  of  Bcnne  Terre,"   etc. 


NEW  YORK 

GEORGE  SULLY  AND  COMPANY 


\c\  »  c* 


COPYRIGHT,  1919,  BY 
GEORGE  SULLY  AND  COMPANY 


PRINTED   IN   II.   S.  A. 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

I    THE  WEDDING i 

II  AN  INVADER'S  WRONG  .      .     .     .     17 

III  THE  BATTLE  OF  THE  RIVERS     .      .     28 

IV  A  MEMORY  OF  SIN 40 

V  THE  SILENT  ADVOCATE       ...     50 

VI  THE  DEAF  AND  DUMB  SPY     .      .     56 

VII     FOR  His   SAKE 72 

VIII  AFTER  BATTLES  END     ....     79 

IX  RESTORING  His  DREAMLAND   .      .     90 

X  PRACTICAL  REPENTANCE      .      .      .103 

XI  A  FRENCHMAN'S  HOME     .     .      .   120 

XII  THE  STING  OF  INJUSTICE  .      .      .133 

XIII  His   MOTHER  UNDERSTOOD      .     .142 

XIV  AN  EVENT 155 

XV  THE  FIRST  CHALLENGE     .      .      .171 

XVI  THE  LORD  OF  THE  VINEYARD  .     .186 

V 


213079R 


vi  CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

XVII     BEFORE  THE  START 197 

XVIII  THE  CALL  TO  NATIONS  .      .      .      .   212 

XIX    A  FAILURE 228 

XX  THREE  YOUNG  MEN     ....  244 

XXI  A  FORMAL  CORRESPONDENCE  .      .  253 

XXII  THE  FIRST  SKIRMISH  ....  261 

XXIII  THE  PAINTING 270 

XXIV  THE  YELLOW  PERIL      .      .      .      .281 
XXV    THE  CAMPAIGN 291 

XXVI    THE  EDDIES 305 

XXVII     THE  ELECTION 314 

XXVIII    VICTORY 326 

XXIX  AN  INTERNATIONALIST  .      .     .     .331 

XXX    REALITIES 344 

XXXI  THE  OTHER  BATTLEFIELD  .      .      .   358 

XXXII     A  NEW  BOND 379 


THE  INVADER'S  SON 

CHAPTER  I 

THE   WEDDING 

"AND  to-morrow  is  my  wedding  day!"  Hermance 
Morestier  exclaimed  as  she  sprang  upon  the  para- 
pet in  the  first  sunbeams  of  a  morning  late  in  the 
month  of  July.  "Ha!  the  maids  in  the  village  are 
glad  with  me — they  love  me  much  now;  but  not  a 
year  ago,  when  Raoul — my  gay  and  handsome 
Raoul — came  back  from  the  army.  Then  they 
were  jealous.  And,  why  not  ? — he  would  have  been 
a  prize  for  any  of  them.  But  I  am  lucky!  Yes; 
Yvonne,  Antoinette,  Marie — and  poor  little  Eloise! 
— they  all  wanted  him !" 

The  clear,  rippling  sounds  of  Hermance's  voice 
were  sent  back  to  her  in  echo  from  across  the  old 
moat,  and  she  laughed  so  merrily  that  a  covey  of 
pigeons  started  up  from  the  ruined*  battlements  at 
her  feet. 

Almost  daily,  since  the  age  of  six,  she  had 
climbed  the  ancient  ladder  to  the  turreted  roof  of 
the  chateau  that  had  been  the  home  of  her  family 
for  five  centuries,  to  look  out  on  the  country,  far 
and  wide,  and  to  amuse  herself  with  the  echo.  Its 
faithful  reproductions  always  thrilled  her  strangely, 
and,  a«  a  child,  she  often  wondered  at  the  phenom- 


2  THE  INVADER'S  SON 

enon— even  sometimes  chaffed  the  little  girl  who 
dared  to  mock  her. 

However,  on  this  occasion,  she  unconsciously  ex- 
pressed aloud  the  secret  of  her  heart.  She  was  sur- 
prised to  hear  the  precious  words  repeated  in  the 
still,  crisp  atmosphere.  She  made  a  pretty  menac- 
ing gesture  at  her  friends — the  big,  brown  hills 
over  the  way, — and  scrambled  further  out  on  the 
broad  coping  to  inhale  the  harvest-scented  air  from 
the  fields.  Her  light  auburn  hair  floated  in  the 
breeze.  The  pink  flush  of  perfect  health  mounted 
to  her  cheeks.  Delicately  moulded  features  and  a 
mouth  that  one  would  kiss  set  her  apart  at  once  as 
beautiful.  Raoul  had  often  told  Hermance  of  this 
desirable  gift  of  the  gods.  And  she  was  guilty  of 
admiring  in  the  mirror,  when  quite  alone,  her  high 
prominent  forehead,  bright  bewitching  blue  eyes, 
shapely  head  finely  poised  on  a  graceful,  velvety, 
white  neck.  As  she  stood  thus,  almost  dizzy  in  the 
zenith  of  happiness  that  comes  to  a  good  girl  at 
such  a  time,  she  was  more  comely  than  ever  before. 
A  flowing  garment  of  pea-green  lawn  suited  her 
well — it  flapped  out  behind,  silhouetting  the  out- 
lines of  her  rounded,  divinely  carved  form  against 
the  cloudless  canopy  of  the  heavens.  Her  nebulous 
charms  of  grace  and  natural  vivaciousness  gave  her 
the  right  to  be  called  the  loveliest  young  woman  in 
that  part  of  Northern  France. 

But  Hermance  was  only  one  of  the  strugglers 
with  poverty  in  that  out-of-way  place.  The  Mo- 


THE  WEDDING  3 

restier  lineage  counted  for  nothing  more  than  kindly 
respect  from  the  peasants.  Hermance  and  her 
mother  were  the  remaining  representatives  of  the 
family,  and  while  inhabiting  the  heavily  mortgaged 
chateau  of  their  forefathers,  they  barely  managed 
to  live  on  the  income  derived  from  taking  in  dress- 
making. All  the  grand  rooms  of  the  old  structure, 
except  four  they  occupied,  were  dilapidated  and 
given  over  to  bats  and  swallows.  In  fact,  part  of 
the  building  had  been  burned  out  during  the  Franco- 
Prussian  War,  at  which  time  the  fortune  of  the 
family  was  lost.  Hermance's  father,  the  only  sur- 
vivor of  the  long  line,  an  invalid,  had  not  been  able 
to  repair  the  chateau,  and,  of  course,  he  had  not 
gathered  in  any  store  of  material  things  to  leave 
his  wife  and  daughter.  Hence  the  huge  pile  of  ivy- 
clad  stone  was  crumbling  away  slowly  on  the  side 
of  the  heights  overlooking  the  Oise  River. 

The  music  of  youth  in  Hermance's  heart  that 
particular  morning  was  the  prospect  of  her  mar- 
riage with  Raoul  Beauvais.  She  had  been  selected 
by  him  out  of  the  beckoning  flock  of  eligible  maidens 
in  the  neighborhood.  This  latter  fact  and  the 
knowledge  that  he  led  all  the  other  young  men  in 
looks  and  praiseworthy  qualities  made  her  proud 
as  well  as  happy. 

Raoul's  grandfather  was  killed  at  Sedan,  in  the 
War  of  1870,  as  also  was  Hermance's,  and  his 
father  and  mother  had  both  died  about  the  time 
he  began  to  walk.  The  schoolmaster  in  the  par- 


4  THE  INVADER'S  SON 

ish  brought  up  the  orphan  nearly  to  manhood, 
when  he  died  also,  leaving  Raoul  to  get  on  as  best 
he  could. 

The  life  Raoul  lived  for  the  next  four  years 
was  hard,  but  he  managed  somehow  to  endure. 
Later  he  had  to  serve  the  required  time  in  the 
French  Army.  A  soldier's  training  benefited  him 
in  more  ways  than  one — he  achieved  considerable 
renown  as  an  accomplished  horseman  and  athlete. 
His  feats  attracted  the  attention  of  a  wealthy  busi- 
ness man  in  Paris.  This  brought  about  acquaint- 
anceship, and  later  he  became  Raoul's  friend. 

Some  time  after  Raoul  returned  to  the  Oise  dis- 
trict, his  admirer,  Henri  Galarre,  proprietor  of  the 
Maison  Galarre,  Paris,  offered  him  a  lucrative  posi- 
tion in  his  department  store.  The  vacancy  would 
occur  in  the  first  days  of  August,  and  Raoul  and 
Hermance  had  decided  to  get  married  and  start  to- 
gether in  the  Capital  of  France.  To  the  young 
lovers — she  was  twenty  and  he  just  past  twenty- 
five, — it  would  be  a  step  up,  and  there  were  also 
possibilities  and  the  hope  that  they  might  save  earn- 
ings and  clear  the  ruined  Morestier  chateau  of  debt ; 
they  might  even  restore  it  to  its  former  grandeur. 

Therefore,  all  together,  it  was  no  wonder  that 
Hermance  rejoiced.  For  the  first  time  the  gleams 
of  a  perfect  day  were  bursting  upon  her  starved 
imagination.  When  she  came  up  for  her  early 
morning  inspection  of  the  familiar  landscape,  the 
whole  world  seemed  aglitter  with  gold.  In  fact,  all 


THE  WEDDING  5 

of  her  peasant  and  village  intimates,  of  whom  she 
was  one  in  sympathy  and  feeling,  rejoiced  with  her. 
With  these  lowly  associates  Raoul  was  also  a 
favorite.  He  had  been  poor  and  lonely  with  them, 
had  toiled  in  the  fields  in  blouses,  had  been  a  jolly 
companion  on  holiday  outings,  and  gay  in  the  cafes, 
and  there  was  not  a  peasant  girl  in  the  region  he 
had  not  taken  for  a  row  on  the  dark  pools  of  the 
Oise.  When  his  tall,  strongly-built,  upright  figure 
appeared  in  the  village  streets,  or  in  rural  lanes,  it 
was  a  signal  for  young  and  old  to  gather  about  to 
share  his  genial  smiles.  Everyone  liked  to  hear  him 
talk.  His  pleasant  sunburnt  face  cheered  many  a 
household;  his  superior  domestic  knowledge,  his 
counsel  and  learning  and  sound  judgment,  made 
him  a  sort  of  demigod  to  small  householders  in 
trouble;  and  out  of  his  wages,  he  relieved  much 
suffering  among  the  poor.  "Ah!  Raoul — big, 
strong  Raoul, — everybody's  friend,  is  just  the  hus- 
band for  Hermance,"  they  all  declared  in  a  burst 
of  genuine  approval. 

Costumes  kept  for  special  occasions  were  brought 
from  rafter  lofts  and  mended  and  brushed  for  the 
wedding.  Heavy  leather  shoes  were  greased  and 
rubbed  with  the  polisher.  Mothers  made  over  dresses 
for  their  daughters.  River  men — also  attached  to 
Raoul,  boyhood  companions  of  his, — made  a  fairly 
good  imitation  Roman  galley  of  one  of  the  barges, 
to  take  the  bridal  couple  on  a  trip  to  the  Great 
Forest.  Even  Father  Pelletier  suggested  that  the 


6  THE  INVADER'S  SON 

church  might  be  decorated  for  the  ceremony — it  was 
done  by  willing  hands.  The  morrow,  then,  would  be 
a  memorable  day  in  the  lives  of  those  who  dwelt 
in  that  lovely  paradise  of  peace  and  contentment. 

Hermance,  on  her  high  perch,  raised  bare,  plump 
arms  to  shade  her  eyes,  and  looked  out  on  waving 
expanses  of  yellow  grain.  Then  she  let  her  gaze 
wander  over  to  the  quaint  village  of  Ste.  Genevieve, 
which  lay  huddled  on  the  banks  of  the  Oise  far 
below.  There  she  had  been  educated  in  the  Con- 
vent of  the  Sacred  Heart,  and  there,  too,  had  flitted 
by  the  care- free  days  of  her  childhood.  She  knew 
every  curious  street  and  walk,  the  exact  pattern  of 
each  gate,  and  could  call  most  of  the  inhabitants  by 
name.  She  had  lived  the  life  of  those  simple  folk, 
and  shared  their  periods  of  sorrow  and  fitful  spells 
of  happiness.  For  several  minutes  Hermance  stood 
quite  still,  studying  and  reviewing  the  groups  of 
low,  weather-soiled  stone  and  brick  houses,  with 
dingy  red  tile  roofs,  and  fell  into  a  reverie  of  the 
tales  they  had  to  transmit — could  they  but  be  stirred 
to  the  gift  of  tongues.  She  could  imagine  what  the 
girls  and  their  mothers  were  doing  within — she 
could  see  their  faces.  A  sigh  escaped  her  as  she 
thought  of  the  squalid  scantiness  of  Rene  Gidon's 
home.  Over  by  the  mill  on  the  river  was  Grand'- 
mere  Dauphin's  cozy  cottage.  A  smile  played  over 
Hermance' s  countenance  as  she  remembered  the  hot 
cakes  she  used  to  eat  from  the  old  dame's  griddle. 

There  were  a  few  stragglers  now  in  the  streets 


THE  WEDDING  ^ 

and  queer  byways.  Hermance  picked  them  out — 
Jean,  the  miller's  son,  who  had  three  times  begged 
her  to  marry  him;  Jules,  the  milkman,  going  for 
his  cart;  Caddo  Felon,  the  bent  and  tottery  shoe- 
maker, who  made  coarse  boots  and  repaired  the 
sabots;  then  there  went  along  hurriedly  fair-haired 
Anson  Joumonville,  the  youthful  doctor,  who  had 
taken  over  his  rheumatic  father's  practice — he  was 
probably  going  to  see  Madame  Garronne; — she 
must  be  worse  with  her  broken  hip.  The  nearness 
of  the  people  and  everything  in  the  village  to  Her- 
mance caused  her  to  clasp  her  hands  impulsively  to 
her  bosom. 

Then  as  the  wheel  of  memory  reversed  rapidly, 
she  recalled  the  time  when  she  had  run  swiftly  on 
garden  walls,  all  the  river  boys  and  girls  spectators, 
the  entire  distance  from  the  wharf  to  the  church, 
closely  pursued  by  Anson  Joumonville,  then  a  lad 
of  ten,  who  dangled  before  him,  on  a  stick,  an  ugly 
crawfish.  At  the  vestry  entrance,  Father  Pelletier 
was  just  coming  out,  and  to  elude  her  tormentor, 
she  had  jumped  off  into  the  outstretched  arms  of 
the  priest.  The  venerable  guardian  of  souls  chuckled 
triumphantly,  and  threatened  the  chagrined  boy 
with  his  cane.  It  had  been  twelve  years  since  that 
incident,  and  yet  she  heard  the  boisterous  laughter 
and  saw  the  peril  of  the  moment  as  though  the 
happening  was  taking  place  again.  Oh,  what  a 
mischievous  pest! — that  Anson.  And  within  the 
past  year,  it  was  he,  the  dashing  young  physician, 


8  THE  INVADER'S  SON 

who  had  made  Raoul  jealous.  "Was  I  not  mean !" — 
she  confessed  to  herself,  remembering  that  she  had 
pretended  a  liking  for  Dr.  Joumonville  to  tease  her 
lover. 

Then,  as  if  favored  by  a  lifting  of  the  impene- 
trable veil,  she  seemed  to  get  a  glimpse  of  the  future, 
when  Dr.  Joumonville  would  be  a  hand  reached  out 
in  troubled  waters  to  her  and  Raoul. 

Hermance  looked  after  the  doctor  again,  and  in- 
voluntarily held  out  her  hands  towards  him.  When 
he  disappeared  behind  a  block  of  shanties,  she  ran 
to  another  part  of  the  half-tumbled  ruins  to 
survey  the  winding,  silvery  thread  of  the  river 
Oise. 

Over  there  the  valley  swarmed  with  French  sol- 
diers. Bayonets  and  accouterments  of  war  flashed 
ominously  in  the  light  of  newborn  day.  As  far  as 
one  could  see,  they  came  on  as  though  to  reinforce 
a  weakened  battle  line.  Thousands  upon  thousands 
came  pouring  through  the  quiet  country  roads. 
What  could  it  mean?  Hermance  leaned  over  the 
edge  of  a  small  tower  to  make  sure  she  was  not 
dreaming.  No;  she  had  not  seen  a  vision — the 
south  horizon  bristled  with  armed  troops,  and  those 
nearest  to  her  had  about  them  a  businesslike  grim- 
ness  that  struck  terror  to  her  heart. 

Why  so  large  an  army?  Why  had  Raoul  not 
apprised  her  of  this  military  movement? 

While  she  waited  like  a  scared  bird,  strains  of 
the  martial  music  of  France  arose,  quick  and  stir- 


THE  WEDDING  9 

ring,  from  the  green-hedged  highways.  Then  went 
up  lusty  cheers  and  cries  of  "Vive  la  France." 
Heads  began  to  pop  out  of  windows  and  doors  in 
Ste.  Genevieve.  Peasants  trudging  to  work  in  vine- 
yards mounted  walls  and  hillocks  to  hail  the  flag  of 
the  Republic.  A  man,  with  hands  gesticulating  to 
the  bedlam  of  patriotic  demonstration,  was  running 
bareheaded  through  the  common.  He  had  the 
stride  and  bearing  of  Raoul.  Hermance  rushed  to 
the  rude  stairway,  and  all  but  tumbled  down  to  meet 
him  at  the  door. 

"Hermance !"  he  said  hoarsely,  a  blaze  of  excite- 
ment flaring  his  face. 

"War!  Raoul— I  know  it;  I  feel  it— is  it  war?" 

"The  bomb  has  burst." 

"Germans!"  gasped  Madame  Morestier,  running 
forward. 

"Yes;  war!"  Raoul's  voice  trembled  with  emo- 
tion. "It's  come.  France  is  afire — the  Germans 
again.  The  Great  War  has  begun.  I've  told  you  it 
would  come.  German  guns  have  started  the  slaugh- 
ter. The  world's  wornout  machinery  has  been 
jammed  by  the  first  shot.  In  less  than  a  month — 
in  a  week,  the  nations  of  Europe  will  swell  the 
gigantic  struggle.  Caesar,  Charlemagne, — Napo- 
leon never  imagined  such  a  war  as  this  will  be. 
The  Germans  now  enter  Belgium.  France  must 
fight.  England  and  Russia  must  fight.  Later, 
America  will  come  in.  The  magnificent  army  of  the 
Republic  of  France  is  mobilized.  I'm  called — see 


io  THE  INVADER'S  SON 

my  card.  Yonder  soldiers  go  to  the  frontier  to  be 
ready  for  battle!" 

His  words  stopped  to  flow,  and  for  a  moment  he 
clutched  Hermance's  hands  and  poured  his  soul's 
yearning  into  hers  through  the  windows  God  has 
provided  for  lovers. 

"Mon  Dieu!  mes  enfants!"  cried  the  old  mother. 
"And  they  will  come  this  way — the  terrible  Ger- 
mans! Tell  me,  truly,  Raoul,  is  it  war?" 

"War!" 

The  horrifying  jar  of  the  French  equivalent  sent 
a  shiver  through  the  aged  lady,  who  remembered 
the  terrors  that  sunk  talons  into  the  land  in  1870. 

Again  Raoul  drew  from  his  pocket  a  slip  of  paper 
and  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

"It's  true,  ma  m£re! — see  Raoul's  order  to  join 
his  regiment!"  said  Hermance,  taking  the  paper  and 
reading  it  quickly  the  second  time. 

"Yes,  ma  chere!"  said  Raoul,  proudly,  "It  is  my 
order  to  go.  I  leave  at  noon.  After  twelve  o'clock 
to-day,  not  one  ablebodied  man  will  be  left  in  Ste. 
Genevieve — every  one  must  go,  who  is  of  the  age  to 
fight" 

Raoul  waited.  He  knew  that  Hermance  would 
show  the  true  spirit  of  the  French. 

"And  if  I  were  only  a  man!"  she  cried,  choking 
down  her  rising  emotions. 

"I  knew  you'd  say  it !"  he  shouted.  "I  knew  you'd 
put  France  first!"  He  embraced  her  enthusi- 
astically, caressing  her  hair  with  his  brawny  hand. 


THE  WEDDING  n 

"Now  kiss  me,  Hermance.  Tell  me  you'll  marry 
me  at  eleven  this  morning." 

Although  she  was  laughing  when  she  pulled  him 
over  to  kiss  his  lips,  tears  sparkled  in  her  eyes. 

"Yes,  Raoul;  I'll  marry  you  at  once.  I'm  quite 
prepared.  It's  noble  of  you  to  wish  it  finished 
before  you  go." 

Madame  Morestier,  stately  and  impressive,  went 
to  Raoul  and  kissed  him  on  the  brow. 

And  so  it  was  arranged.  Amid  the  excitement 
of  the  villagers,  while  soldiers  and  artillery  clat- 
tered through  crooked  streets,  willing  runners  spread 
news  of  the  hurried  wedding.  Exactly  when  the 
chimes  of  the  clock  in  the  church  tower  began  to 
announce  the  hour,  a  group  of  friends  gathered  in 
the  pews  to  witness  the  sacred  blessing  of  the  aged 
priest.  Raoul  and  Hermance  knelt  before  the  altar 
and  repeated  the  indissoluble  vows  that  made  them 
husband  and  wife.  Theirs  had  been  a  happy  court- 
ship. The  wedding  had  come  at  the  moment  when 
they  were  ushered  into  the  hard  realities  of  life. 

As  Father  Pelletier  stood  with  outspread  hands, 
commending  them  to  the  tender  mercies  of  the 
Almighty,  the  majestic  roll  of  "La  Marseillaise" 
filled  the  somber  interior  of  God's  house  and  rever- 
berated from  transept  to  choir.  Peasants  and  vil- 
lagers in  the  front  seats  were  electrified.  The 
Reverend  Father  raised  his  voice  above  the  rattle 
of  drums,  and  specially  charged  them  to  uphold 
the  honor  of  France,  the  homeland  of  ancestors  who 


12  THE  INVADER'S  SON 

had  shed  their  blood  on  the  battlefield  of  Sedan. 
"Bear  you  with  patience  and  fortitude  whatever  may 
befall  you  in  this  terrible  war,  now  commencing — 
you,  Raoul,  my  son,  must  endure  the  belching  fire 
of  cannon ;  and  you,  Hermance.  my  daughter,  stand 
steadfast.  The  woman  who  fears  God  has  her  work 
to  do.  Remember,  Hermance.  you  have  to  suffer 
for  France.  You  will  be  tried  to  the  last  degree, 
but  be  brave  under  the  mailed  fist  of  brutality;  it 
will  be  your  offering  at  the  shrine  of  liberty." 

Hermance  perceived  the  spirit  of  prophecy  in  the 
saying  of  the  white-haired  man  of  the  church.  A 
chill  of  fear  quickened  her  heartbeats.  Her  pre- 
monition of  the  early  morning  regarding  the  future 
friendship  of  Dr.  Joumonville  came  to  her  mind. 
The  warning  repeated  begot  conviction.  Her  face 
blanched  and  she  became  grave  in  arousing  deter- 
mination. Raoul  had  told  her  she  was  a  true  daugh- 
ter of  France — she  had  wished  to  be  a  man  that 
she  might  go  forth  to  war.  She  accepted  the  role 
prepared  for  her  by  Fate,  and  said  aloud :  "All  this 
I  vow  to  do!" 

Within  a  half  hour  thereafter,  the  young  husband 
and  his  pretty  bride  parted  at  the  station — he  to 
go  to  the  Armageddon  to  fight  for  the  freedom  of 
the  world;  she  to  wait  and  suffer  and  pray.  Her- 
mance ran  apace  with  the  moving  train,  that  she 
might  the  longer  hold  his  hand  and  drink  from  his 
eyes  the  elixir  of  love.  She  flogged  her  heart  to 
appear  gay — her  expressions  of  hope  could  not  con- 


THE  WEDDING  13 

ceal  an  undertow  of  dread,  but  she  endeavored  to 
leave  with  him  a  token  of  brightness  to  cheer  him  on 
his  way. 

Raoul  waved  his  handkerchief  to  her  until  the 
puffing  locomotive  carried  him  around  the  curve 
and  out  of  sight. 

Excited  and  uncertain  what  to  do  next,  Hermance 
turned  back  to  the  party  that  had  followed  them 
from  the  church  door.  Her  tears  now  flowed  freely 
— she  could  not  control  her  feelings.  It  seemed 
that  a  load  of  sorrow  had  descended  upon  her 
shoulders. 

But  there  were  others  who  wept  with  her — many 
for  her  sake;  and  mothers  and  sisters  grieved  after 
their  loved  ones.  Then  a  hush  settled  down  upon 
those  who  hung  about  the  tiny  station,  as  though 
Death  had  passed  them  by,  lapping  up  in  whirlwind 
all  the  men  of  that  peaceful  community. 

"Don't  cry,  Hermance,"  said  Grand'tnere  Dau- 
phin, pleadingly ;  'Francois  has  gone,  too.  My  good 
man  went  thus  to  the  other  war, — and  never  came 
back.  You  can  learn  to  stand  it  with  the  rest  of 
us — and  let  us  hope  that  France  will  avenge  her 
wrongs." 

"Ah,  I'm  here,  my  daughter,  Hermance."  Old 
Dr.  Joumonville  swung  out  of  the  group  on  his 
crutches.  "I  sent  Anson  to  fight — I'd  have  gone, 
too,  but  for  these  pesky  things.  However,  some- 
one will  have  to  look  after  the  ills  of  Ste.  Genevieve 
during  the  war,  and  I  shall  do  it." 


14  THE  INVADER'S  SON 

"I  told  my  boy,"  put  in  Madame  Savoir,  "it'd 
be  far  better  for  him  to  go  to  war  than  to  spend  his 
time  drinking  all  day  and  disturbing  the  good  folk 
of  nights." 

This  announcement  was  welcomed  by  the  vil- 
lagers, and  in  spite  of  general  gloom,  sighs  of  re- 
lief escaped  from  several. 

"It's  not  so  bad,"  said  Roger,  the  jester.  "War  is 
war,  and  must  needs  be;  but  we're  French."  He 
then  did  a  bit  of  a  dance,  bringing  his  wooden  leg 
down  with  such  a  singular  curve  each  time  that  the 
company  soon  began  to  laugh. 

"Ah,  ladies  and — and  the  few  old  smashed-up 
gentlemen,  know  you  not  that  there  is  a  bride  wait- 
ing for  escort  home.  Come  now,  you  Caddo  Felon, 
have  you  forgot  to  sing?  Man  Dieu,  a  wedding 
without  a  procession — and  music.  That  will  never 
do!" 

So  said  Roger,  proud  that  he  had  cast  off  the  pall 
of  sadness.  He  hustled  the  crowd  into  line,  taking 
unto  himself  the  honor  of  marching  with  Her- 
mance.  Dogs  began  barking  as  the  peasant  girls,  led 
by  old  Felon,  struck  up  the  wedding  song  of  ancient 
Picardy.  Off  they  went,  down  the  narrow  walled 
street,  all  trying  to  keep  up  the  hop-and-skip  joy 
dance. 

The  last  soldier  had  disappeared  towards  Hirson. 
Humble  inhabitants  left  behind  to  concern  them- 
selves with  other  things  and  keep  up  the  quaint  life 
of  Ste.  Genevieve  joined  the  merrymakers.  The 


THE  WEDDING  15 

wedding  march  soon  became  popular,  everybody 
turning  out  to  swell  the  volume  of  laughter  and 
song.  The  village's  population  was  now  less  than 
a  hundred,  not  counting  the  few  children.  And  the 
majority  of  these  was  women.  The  men  who  did 
not  go  to  war  were  old  and  crippled.  Therefore, 
it  was  a  grotesque  line  that  wormed  its  tortuous 
way  across  the  high  stone  bridge  towards  Chateau 
Morestier.  Halt  and  maimed,  rheumatic  and  palsied, 
stooped  and  tottering ;  drab-clad,  washed-out  dames, 
the  frost  of  gray  hairs  and  the  bronzed  and  non- 
descript faces  strikingly  marked  in  contrast  with 
the  florid  bloom  of  the  vineyard  girls,  were  all  there 
rollicking  and  living  in  the  present.  To  the  on- 
looker, the  scene  was  not  without  a  pathetic  touch — 
but  dominating  tragedy,  as  ever  before,  the  wonder- 
ful French  spirit  of  resignation  had  triumphed  in 
these  simple  hearts.  In  the  face  of  disaster,  they 
could  sing  and  dance. 

That  evening  when  the  sting  of  summer  heat  had 
been  lessened  by  a  wave  of  fresh  air  from  the  for- 
ests, those  patient  and  satisfied  people  went  troop- 
ing in  twos  and  threes  to  the  crumbing  chateau, 
carrying  huge  baskets  that  contained  viands  and 
dainties  and  bottles  of  wine  for  the  wedding  sup- 
per. Hermance's  was  the  first  wedding  of  war 
times,  and  it  must  be  celebrated  according  to  the 
customs  of  Picardy.  A  half  score  of  long-legged, 
corduroy-trousered  lads,  and  swathy  matrons  in 
plenty,  had  labored  during  the  afternoon  to  clear 


16  THE  INVADER'S  SON 

the  rubbish  and  dust  from  the  salon  of  General 
Jacques  Morestiers  days,  for  the  neighbors  must 
gather  there  at  night  to  wish  the  bride  a  happy 
journey — and  to  dine  and  dance.  And  by  and  by, 
when  the  stars  peeped  out  of  their  coverlet  of  blue, 
hundreds  of  candles  set  on  window-plates,  in  wall 
racks,  and  displayed  in  old-fashioned,  tarnished 
chandeliers,  flickered  far  up  on  the  heights,  a  sem- 
blance of  the  magnificence  of  a  bygone  age. 


CHAPTER  II 

AN  INVADER'S  WRONG 

IN  the  first  week  of  August,  dark  clouds  that  had 
been  gathering  for  forty  years  hovered  low  over 
Europe  and  began  pouring  out  fire  of  wrath. 
Thunders  of  war  splintered  the  Firmament  of  Peace 
in  Belgium.  Armies  of  millions  rushed  to  the 
theatre  of  slaughter. 

Liege  succumbed  to  the  German  hordes.  Power- 
ful Krupp  howitzers  demolished  the  forts  of  Namur. 
The  battles  of  Mons  and  Charleroi  overshadowed 
the  military  holocausts  of  history.  Louvain  was 
sacked  and  left  in  charred  ruins,  and  Antwerp 
occupied  that  the  Prussian  pistol  might  be  pointed 
at  England's  head.  Then  William  II.  of  Germany, 
the  War  Lord  of  1914,  stood  on  the  crest  of  the 
Ardennes  and  issued  the  command :  "On  to  Paris !" 

Death-dealing  fusillades  of  multitudes  spread  out 
over  a  swath  two  hundred  and  fifty  miles  wide, 
from  Alsace-Lorraine  to  the  sea,  and  double  lines 
of  cold,  merciless  steel  clashed  and  slew  the  best 
manhood  of  nations.  Waters  of  the  Meuse  and 
Aisne  were  streaked  with  human  blood.  The  over- 
whelmed forces  of  the  Allies  backed  slowly  before 
the  stolid  but  victorious  onslaught  of  the  German 
phalanx.  Shaded  lanes,  cottage  flecked  valleys, 
wooded  hills,  and  picturesque  highlands  and  plains 

17 


i8  THE  INVADER'S  SON 

heard  again  the  scream  of  shells  and  the  hissing  phit 
of  rifle  fire.  Smoking  piles  of  ruins,  carcasses  of 
horses,  shallow  trenches  clogged  with  dead  and 
dying  men,  church  spires  broken  off  and  bored 
through  by  cannon  balls,  frightened  women  and 
children  kneeling  about  roadside  shrines  in  the  small 
hours  of  night;  cries  and  moans  in  the  dank  dark- 
ness marked  the  wake  of  the  horrors  of  war  not 
seen,  not  described  in  the  journals  of  the  day,  and 
not  accompanied  by  glorious  music  as  in  the  heroic 
past.  Despite  the  scorching  heat  of  midsummer, 
the  advance  by  the  last  days  of  August  had  brought 
the  vast  host  of  Huns  into  the  borders  of  fair 
France.  And  then,  steadily  through  sunshine  and 
night-time,  artillery  bombardments  shook  the  earth. 
Crackling  flames  of  destruction  went  on  unceas- 
ingly, lapping  up  villages  and  towns  famous  in  the 
annals  of  civilization.  Out  of  the  murrain  of  ra- 
pine and  murder,  the  pitiful  wails  of  innocent  peas- 
ants arose  unheeded. 

In  the  pell-mell  of  madness,  clattering  hoofs  of 
war  horses  and  wheezing  gasoline  motors,  dust  cov- 
ered and  scarred,  ran  forward  wildly,  dragging 
munition  wagons  and  provision  vans.  Red  Cross 
trains  and  lorries  worked  back  the  dead  and 
wounded  from  the  fray.  The  terrible  business 
rushed  on  and  on,  as  uncontrollable  as  the  muddy 
flood  that  has  broken  its  dam.  Mediaeval  savagery 
swept  the  tenets  of  Christianity  aside  and  ruth- 
lessly laid  waste  thatched  hut,  humble  home,  and 


AN  INVADER'S  WRONG  19 

age-honored  chateau.  No  city  or  peaceful  hamlet 
escaped  the  smashing  tread  of  the  destroyers. 

Ste.  Genevieve  lay  in  the  path  of  fury.  One 
evening,  while  the  western  horizon  yet  glowed  from 
the  setting  of  a  young  autumnal  sun,  myriads  of 
spiked  helmets  appeared  in  the  north.  Helpless  in- 
habitants in  the  village  and  laborers  in  nearby  hay 
fields  saw  the  columns  of  dust  arising  spiral-like 
into  the  heavens,  and  said :  "It  rains  to-morrow. 
Let  us  hasten."  But,  alas!  instead  of  the  cooling 
vapors,  the  byways  and  slopes  and  upper  banks  of 
the  Oise  soon  became  a  living,  moving,  steaming 
mass  of  dull  gray  uniforms — Prussians  and  Bava- 
rians were  mounted  and  heavy-booted  for  war,  and 
came  smothering  all  before  them  like  a  thick  bed 
of  smoking  lava.  Before  the  astonished  people 
could  comprehend  the  meaning,  clanking  swords 
and  the  raucous  commands  of  the  enemy  filled  the 
air.  Bugle  calls  and  galloping  officers  strung  out 
columns  round  about  the  town,  and  the  cohorts  of 
modern  Attila  settled  down  for  the  night. 

Women  screamed  and  sought  their  homes  in  ter- 
ror. Quickly  as  panic  spread,  there  was  hastening 
to  and  fro  with  bundles  and  babies  and  muffled  or- 
ders were  given  to  fetch  the  carts  and  wheelbarrows, 
preparatory  to  making  an  exit.  The  scanty  homes 
were  shuttered,  and  soon  the  sorry-looking  inno- 
cents emerged  to  be  hustled  and  bustled  in  the  streets 
and  roads.  But  they  were  not  to  be  allowed  to 
flee  to  the  hills  and  swamps.  The  coarse  conqueror 


20  THE  INVADER'S  SON 

sent  them  back  to  their  houses.  They  were  as- 
sured of  life — if  they  obeyed.  The  tired,  foot- 
sore soldiers  needed  food  and  drink — the  French 
dogs  should  feed  them  immediately, — and  hurry! 
So  the  Imperial  Edict  ran. 

Outposts  were  established  both  up  and  down  the 
river  Oise — and  on  the  distant  heights  and  across 
the  valleys  and  table-lands.  Thousands  upon  multi- 
plied thousands  of  troops  rolled  in  from  every- 
where, covering  the  face  of  the  earth  in  perfect  or- 
der. Within  an  hour  the  uproar  and  noise  of  the 
entry  had  ceased.  The  most  exacting  military  dis- 
cipline prevailed.  Sentries  paced  their  beats. 
Wheeled  army  kitchens  were  quickly  run  up  among 
the  men,  and  cooks  and  attendants  began  distrib- 
uting soup  and  hot  coffee.  Horses  drank  their  fill 
from  the  river,  and  were  tethered  in  rows  and 
groups  and  fed.  Then  the  tired  soldiers  sat  down 
to  wait  for  the  evening  meal. 

Officers  ordered  the  villagers  to  provide  certain 
foods,  which  were  forthcoming  in  the  hope  that  the 
anger  of  the  War  Lords  might  be  appeased.  Scared 
women  and  hobbling  men  of  Ste.  Genevieve  hustled 
here  and  there  trying  as  best  they  could  to  obey 
military  mandates. 

And  the  while,  irrepressible  children  ventured 
cautiously  among  the  lancers  and  Uhlans — to  watch 
them  eat.  They  regarded  the  invaders  as  monsters 
from  another  planet.  One  now  and  again  among 
the  adventurous  boys  made  bold  to  finger  a  sabre 


AN  INVADER'S  WRONG  21 

or  a  bayonet — to  see  if  they  were  sharp.  As  timid- 
ity vanished,  the  little  fellows  and  their  sisters  ad- 
vanced deeper  into  the  enemy's  camp.  When,  lo !  a 
tiny  brown-cheeked  girl  was  snatched  up  by  a  big 
Westphalian  and  trotted  on  his  knee!  He  meant 
to  be  kind — and  the  young  band  of  Gauls  under- 
stood him.  It  must  be  safe,  therefore,  and  tots  and 
ragamuffins  wandered  all  about,  eyeing  shrewdly 
the  spoilers  of  their  country. 

Soldiers  will  be  soldiers,  whatever  may  be  their 
nationality,  and  naturally  these  grosser  ones  counted 
it  a  part  of  their  sport  to  rifle  wine  cellars.  Hence 
the  few  stores  of  rare  vintages  were  pillaged.  Also 
the  houses  were  searched  for  firearms — and,  of 
course,  some  trifles  found  havens  in  soldiers' 
pockets. 

One  old  Frenchman,  on  seeing  his  champagne 
passing  into  other  hands — without  the  formalities 
of  sale — objected  vigorously,  and  was  wantonly 
shot.  This  incident  loosed  the  leashes  of  brutes  of 
the  dark  ages,  and  for  slight  offenses  three  more 
men  were  killed — two  of  them  for  attempting  to 
conceal  a  rusty  sword,  a  relic  of  the  first  Prussian 
war.  The  victims'  cottages  having  been  set  on  fire, 
murder  ceased  for  the  moment  to  make  way  for 
some  new  sordid  fancy.  Such  manifestations  of 
savagery  and  disregard  of  private  lives  and  prop- 
erty were  sufficient  to  cause  the  people  to  quake 
with  fear — and  probably  prevented  further  atroci- 
ties by  compelling  strict  compliance  with  all  orders. 


22  THE  INVADER'S  SON 

Among  those  who  served  the  bodies  were  Her- 
mance  and  her  mother  from  the  Chateau  Morestier. 
As  they  went  in  and  out  among  the  resting  bands 
of  troopers,  a  young  officer's  amorous  eyes  noted 
the  beauty  of  shy  Madame  Beauvais.  He  asked  of 
her  a  second  and  a  third  cup  of  coffee  that  he  might 
feast  his  sodden  senses  upon  her  charms.  Her- 
mance  shuddered  and  tried  to  avoid  him,  but  he 
persisted  to  the  point  of  rudeness,  then  spoke  to  her 
kindly  as  if-  wishing  to  allay  her  suspicions.  Al- 
though her  heart  still  pounded  in  her  bosom,  she 
kept  on  performing  the  task  imposed,  lest  he  detect 
that  she  dreaded  him.  His  politeness  did  not  put 
her  at  ease.  She  recognized  that  his  fluent  French 
and  veneer  of  manners  placed  him  in  some  corner 
of  the  German  aristocracy — she  also  noticed  that 
he  was  a  fine,  well-set-up  specimen  of  the  barbarous 
Teuton  race, — probably  not  more  than  twenty-six 
years  of  age.  Perhaps  he  was  less  a  beast  than  the 
common  goose-stepper,  but  she  breathed  more  free- 
ly when  she  had  been  dismissed  and  told  to  go 
home. 

Count  von  Essenhendel,  for  that  was  the  officer's 
name,  called  his  orderly,  and  said :  "Follow  the 
young  woman  to  her  door ;  make  the  usual  inquiries, 
and  report  at  once."  He  then  resumed  conversa- 
tion with  hilarious  companions,  and  called  for  an- 
other round  of  champagne  taken  from  old  Gambre- 
nant's  cellar. 

Hermance  paused  at  her  mother's  side  before  the 


AN  INVADER'S  WRONG  23 

entrance  of  the  chateau  to  look  down  upon  the  in- 
vaders. She  cast  a  questioning  glance  at  Madame 
Morestier  as  a  smart  soldier  laid  his  hand  on  gate 
latch  and  entered  without  heeding  their  presence. 

"Your  name,  please,"  he  said,  taking  from  his 
pocket  a  book  and  pencil. 

"Madame  Morestier  and  Madame  Beauvais/'  re- 
plied Hermance. 

"Any  men  in  the  house?" 

"None — my  husband  is  in  the  French  army." 

"Members  in  your  household?"  continued  the  or- 
derly, as  if  bored — "also  servants?" 

"Two — Mother  and  I."  Hermance's  voice  trem- 
bled. 

The  pompous  German  looked  surprised — but  said 
mechanically :  "See  that  you  do  not  leave  the  house 
until  after  sunrise  to-morrow,  unless  bidden.  The 
penalty  is  death." 

He  chalked  a  large  shield  on  the  door  post,  and 
drew  an  arrow  through  it.  His  lip  curled  as  he 
leered  at  the  young  wife  before  departing.  Her- 
mance clenched  her  hands  as  she  watched  him  go 
jauntily  down  the  slope. 

"Oh,  Mother!"  she  cried,  as  soon  as  the  soldier 
was  out  of  hearing,  "I'm  afraid.  What's  this  mark? 
An  officer  down  there,  who  persisted  in  talking  to 
me,  wears  that  emblem  on  his  coat." 

"Ah,  my  child,  we  are  not  safe.  But  I  see  noth- 
ing of  awe  in  this  simple  sign — perhaps  he's  the 
commanding  officer,  and  this  mark  merely  shows 


24  THE  INVADER'S  SON 

that  our  house  has  been  brought  under  his  control. 
You  must  not  show  fear." 

"I'm  a  Frenchwoman,  Mother.  My  dear  Raoul 
is  fighting  for  our  beloved  land — ah,  and  what  may 
not  have  happened  to  him !  I'm  not  afraid  to  meet 
whatever  hardships  may  be  imposed  upon  us." 

White-flecked  storm  clouds  were  racing  across 
the  heavens. 

"Within  and  above,  then,  to  our  rooms.  The 
Blessed  Virgin  protect  us,"  said  the  good  mother, 
making  a  show  of  courage.  But  inwardly  she 
sensed  danger. 

At  ten  o'clock,  the  two  lonely  women  in  the  Cha- 
teau Morestier  extinguished  their  candles  and  crept 
to  bed.  The  night  was  dark,  and  it  had  begun  to  rain. 
Gusts  of  wind  rattled  and  banged  hanging  blinds  in 
the  deserted  part  of  the  building — and  stealing 
through  the  lulls  in  the  warning  of  the  elements 
came  bursts  of  laughter  and  disgusting  ribaldry 
from  drunken  revelries  on  the  river  banks  below. 
Neither  of  the  women  slept. 

Down  in  Ste.  Genevieve's  single  cafe  an  orgy  was 
in  progress.  Broken  bottles  were  strewn  about  the 
floor.  Two  of  the  party  snored  under  a  wide  oak 
table.  Several  others  lolled  about  the  bar,  singing 
facetious  songs. 

Dominant  in  this  orgy  of  officers  was  Count  von 
Essenhendel.  He  carried  his  liquor  like  a  gentle- 
man, and  regarded  with  disgust  the  men  about  him 
who  had  made  beasts  of  themselves.  He  twisted  his 


AN  INVADER'S  WRONG  25 

blond  mustache  reflectively  for  a  moment,  yawned, 
and  fumbled  in  his  pocket  for  the  slip  of  paper  his 
orderly  had  handed  him  earlier  in  the  evening. 

"Madame  Beauvais,"  he  read  by  the  reddish  flame 
of  the  lamp  beside  him.  "Husband  in  the  French 
army — mother  and  young  wife  alone  in  a  big  cha- 
teau." The  brute  of  voluptuous  manhood  snubbed  his 
conscience  and  gloated  out  of  his  eyes.  He  recounted 
other  chateaux  he  had  previously  had  marked  with 
the  shield  and  arrow,  as  precincts  specially  set  aside 
for  himself.  He  regarded  his  gold  watch  for  a  sec- 
ond, and  summoned  his  orderly  who  slept  soundly 
in  the  corner. 

"Show  me  the  way,  soldier." 

The  orderly  rubbed  his  eyes,  touched  his  brow 
stiffly,  and  walked  out  before  his  master. 


"One,  two,  three,  four,  five,  six,  seven,  eight,  nine, 
ten,  eleven,  twelve — "  Hermance  counted  the  strokes 
of  the  clock  in  the  steeple  of  L'cglise  d'e  St.  Joseph. 

"Mother,  are  you  awake?"  she  asked. 

"Yes;  have  you  been  resting?" 

"No."  Then  after  a  pause  Hermance  added: 
"I  have  been  thinking  of  Raoul.  I  wonder  where 
he  is  to-night.  He  has  not  written  since  he  went 
away  on  our  wedding  day." 

"He  has  had  no  chance  to  write,  my  child." 

"I  know,  I  know,  Mother.     Only  I  wish " 

"What  do  you  wish,  Hermance?" 


26  THE  INVADER'S  SON 

"I  wish  he  might  have  been  my — my  husband  for 
just  one  week." 

Madame  Morestier  understood.  She  got  up  and 
went  to  her  daughter,  and  sat  for  a  minute  stroking 
her  hair. 

"You're  nervous,  Hermance.  Do  try  and  be 
calm."  But  the  mother  could  feel  hot  tears  falling 
upon  her  hand. 

The  crunch  of  hobnailed  boots  was  heard  on  the 
gravel  walk  in  the  front  garden !  Hermance  sprang 
to  the  window  and  pulled  up  the  wooden  blind. 

Without  was  as  light  as  day — for  the  big  mill  by 
the  high  bridge  had  been  fired  by  the  invaders,  and 
mammoth  flames  wrapped  it  about  and  leaped  an- 
grily into  space.  Torrents  of  rain  still  fell,  but  the 
glare  from  the  mill  turned  the  water  into  glassy 
sheets.  Hermance  tiptoed  to  see  below.  Four  men 
approached  the  entrance  door,  and  six  others  paced 
in  twos  before  the  outer  wall,  their  helmets  adrip 
and  glistening  in  the  downpour.  They  looked  sul- 
len and  menacing  with  their  shouldered  guns.  Fol- 
lowing the  four  men  in  the  garden  was  the  officer 
who  had  annoyed  her  in  the  evening! 

"Mother,  Mother! — see!  they  come!" 

Three  heavy  tugs  at  the  doorbell  made  quick  re- 
sponse imperative. 

"I'll  answer,  Hermance.  Remain  and  be  quiet. 
I  shall  say " 

Without  completing  her  sentence,  Madame  Mo- 
restier flung  a  greatcloak  over  her  nightdress  and 


AN  INVADER'S  WRONG  27 

ran  down  the  three  flights  of  stairs  as  fast  as  she 
could. 

There  was  a  brief  interval  of  bluff,  short  com- 
mands below,  which  Hermance  could  not  make  out, 
and  then  men's  feet  began  ascending  the  stone  steps. 
She  stood  like  a  statue  in  the  middle  of  the  floor, 
her  face  blanched  and  her  hands  clutched  hard  over 
her  bosom. 

One  of  the  four  men  flashed  a  lantern  in  the  dark 
room  adjoining,  as  someone  entered,  and  said  in  bad 
French,  evidently  addressing  Madame  Morestier: 

"Dress  quickly,  madame.  You  only  will  be  re- 
quired to  nurse  the  ill  soldiers.  Young  madame 
will  rest  here." 

Hermance  heard  her  mother  sob  aloud  as  she 
hesitated. 

"You  go  then  without  dress,"  said  the  same  voice. 
The  four  seemed  to  crowd  in  at  the  side  door.  Two 
of  them  seized  the  old  lady  and  bundled  her  off 
along  the  hallway. 

Count  Essenhendel  entered  Hermance's  room, 
struck  a  match,  deliberately  lit  a  candle  on  the  table, 
then  walked  back  to  the  door,  locked  it,  and  put 
the  key  into  his  pocket. 

Hermance,  who  had  been  looking  on  in  wide- 
eyed  amazement,  sprang  forward  and  screamed. 
She  wrestled  with  him  for  the  key  until  every  piece 
of  furniture  in  the  room  had  either  been  knocked 
over  or  shoved  to  one  side.  At  last  when  he  held 
her  wrists  in  iron  grip,  and  every  ounce  of  her 
strength  had  gone,  she  fell  in  a  swoon  at  his  feet. 


CHAPTER   III 

THE  BATTLE  OF  THE  RIVERS 

ON  AND  on  went  the  German  war  machine  with  its 
unnumbered  hundreds  of  thousands,  driving  before 
it  the  French  and  English  armies,  and  leaving  con- 
sternation behind,  until  by  the  6th  of  September, 
Generals  Von  Kluck  and  Von  Biilow  were  within  a 
day's  march  of  the  main  fortifications  of  Paris. 
The  Kaiser's  order  to  take  the  French  capital  had 
all  but  been  accomplished.  The  ten  days'  advance 
from  Belgium  to  the  gates  of  Paris  had  alarmed 
Europe — and  France  hastily  moved  her  departments 
of  State  to  Bordeaux.  Millions  of  invading  Huns 
with  their  perfect  equipment  broke  all  previous  mili- 
tary records  in  nearly  everything  they  did.  But 
then  came  the  check  to  the  Germans  near  Coulom- 
miers.  On  September  7th,  according  to  prophecy, 
as  many  believed,  the  tide  turned. 

The  Allies  bent  back  the  head  of  the  serpent  in  the 
north,  where  it  was  already  licking  its  tongue  at  the 
gay  city  on  the  Seine.  In  the  south,  the  Germans 
began  retreating  along  a  line  as  far  below  as  Cha- 
lons. Their  revenge  was  let  loose  on  Senlis  of  his- 
tory. And  smarting  from  the  hurling  back  blow, 
chagrin  and  uncontrolled  anger  unchained  the  sav- 
agery of  Attila's  reign,  to  sack  and  ruin  all  the 
cities  that  lay  in  the  long  backward  sweep.  If  they 

28 


THE  BATTLE  OF  THE  RIVERS        29 

could  not  conquer,  they  would  leave  their  marks 
on  France. 

"Plus  a  Paris — plus  a  Paris!" 

The  dream  of  William  II.  was  ended.  The  pic- 
ture became  tragic — that  of  the  War  Lord  watch- 
ing on  the  hills  near  Nancy;  the  man  who  had  ex- 
plored every  field  of  knowledge  and  harbored  every 
ambition  known  to  the  realms  of  kings,  until  he 
imagined  that  the  time  had  come  for  him,  as  the 
Chosen  Field  Marshal  of  God,  to  take  charge  of 
Europe  and  govern  actually  as  his  Prussian  ideals 
dictated :  but  now  the  chosen  among  modern  mon- 
archs,  self-appointed  emissary  of  Providence,  must 
look  out  on  retreating  German  hordes  and  only  the 
mirage  of  his  promised  land. 

In  the  common  ranks  of  the  French  along  the 
Marne,  Raoul  Beauvais  followed  the  routed  Huns 
with  his  rifle.  He  fought  in  the  trenches  and 
charged  with  his  bayonet.  Often  his  uniform  was 
red  with  blood  from  the  field  of  carnage.  Some- 
times he  lay  with  the  unknown  thousands  of  his 
faithful  race  for  hours  at  a  time  on  the  brow  of  an 
elevation,  listening  to  the  whining  song  of  shells 
and  the  energetic  sputter  of  machine  guns,  and  fear- 
ful of  explosions,  until  he  was  nearly  deaf  and  half 
crazed.  The  reality  of  war  sprawled  unmasked  about 
him.  He  saw  death  become  as  casual  and  unnoticed 
as  the  passing  of  flowers  in  the  summer.  Men  and 
horses  lay  rotting  side  by  side,  the  bodies  of  one 


30  THE    INVADER'S  SON 

creation  apparently  of  as  little  concern  to  the  world 
as  the  other.  Fertile  fields,  intended  to  produce 
and  feed  the  poor,  were  furrowed  by  bursting 
bombs,  ploughed  by  the  swift  skimming  of  half-ton 
projectiles,  and  disfigured  with  zigzag  ditches  for 
protection,  which  later  became  the  graves  of  those 
who  had  sheltered  in  them.  The  occupation  of 
peasants  had  been  changed  from  that  of  cultivating 
the  soil  to  burying  the  dead. 

Raoul  saw  it  all  and  wondered.  But  thoughts  of 
a  young  wife  up  in  the  Oise  valley,  surrounded  and 
enveloped  by  the  enemy,  the  memory  of  his  home 
village,  the  peaceful  hills  and  plains,  the  needs  of 
fair  France  in  her  cry  for  protection,  made  his  faith 
steadfast  and  his  courage  unbounded  to  push  for- 
ward and  fight  for  the  rights  of  men  and  the  free- 
dom of  the  world.  Again  and  again  he  fired  with 
his  rifle  until  it  became  too  hot  to  touch,  when  he 
would  throw  it  away  and  pick  up  one  still  gripped 
by  some  Francis's  cold  hands. 

The  command  in  which  Raoul  fought  followed 
the  Germans  to  Rheims.  His  first  view  of  the  old 
Roman  city  from  the  heights  on  the  south  more 
than  fulfilled  the  descriptions  he  had  read,  and  the 
personal  touches  of  experiences,  related  to  him  by 
the  schoolmaster  in  Ste.  Genevieve.  There  it  lay, 
surrounded  by  a  wooded  circle  of  hills.  He  ran  his 
eyes  over  the  broad,  scattered  city  of  trees  and 
houses,  until  they  rested  on  the  great  landmark,  the 
gray  stone  cathedral  with  its  two  huge  towers  of 


THE  BATTLE  OF  THE  RIVERS        31 

marvelous  handiwork.  He  was  fatigued  almost  be- 
yond endurance,  and  suffered  excruciating  pains 
from  a  shrapnel  wound  on  his  shoulder,  but  he  re- 
called an  encomium  on  the  wonderful  monument  of 
the  church,  written  by  Auguste  Rodin,  which  he 
had  clipped  from  a  newspaper  passed  to  him  by  a 
generous  correspondent : 

"Vue  de  trois  quarts,  la  cathedrale  de  Reims 
evoque  une  grande  figure  de  femme  agenouillee, 
en  priere.  C'est  le  sens  pue  donne  la  forme  de  la 
console.  Du  meme  point  de  vue  j 'observe  qua  la 
cathedrale  monte  comme  une  flamme. 

"Je  m'arrete  devant  le  portail. 

"Ces  figures  de  Saints,  vraiment  capables  de 
lancer  la  foudre!  Ces  serviteurs,  humbles,  qui 
tiennent  le  Livre !  Cette  grande  figure  majestueuse 
de  femme :  la  Loi ! 

L'admirable  Saint-Denis  du  portail  Nord!  II 
porte  sa  tete  dans  sa  main  et  deux  anges,  a  la  place 
de  la  tete,  soutiennent  une  couronne.  M'est-il 
permis  de  voir  la  un  symbole  ?  Celui-ci :  les  idees 
coupees,  interrompues  dans  leur  essor  se  rejoin- 
dront  plus  tard  et  regneront  un  jour,  tout  un  jour 
qui  n'aura  pas  de  fin !" 

But  it  had  been  destroyed !  The  one  church  struc- 
ture, the  one  cathedral  revered  by  the  world,  had 
been  smashed  by  German  shells.  Flames  had  con- 
sumed the  beauty  of  six  centuries'  building.  Even 
while  Raoul  looked  on,  the  scream  of  a  shell  was 
heard  over  the  top  of  the  opposite  hills,  and  a  second 
later,  it  crashed  into  the  smoking  ruins  to  send 
heavenward  a  cloud  of  spark-lit  dust.  The  towers 
still  stood,  also  the  walls  and  roof  in  parts,  but  they 


32  THE   INVADER'S   SON 

were  blackened  and  defaced.  Marvelous  carvings 
dropped  to  the  streets  in  chunks.  Statues  of  saints 
and  of  the  Savior  were  broken  in  twain.  The  Holy 
Altar  was  crushed  and  covered  with  fire-bleached 
plaster.  The  great  rose  window,  an  art  treasure  of 
immense  value,  had  been  shattered  like  the  coarse 
glass  in  Belgian  factory  roofs!  And  stupendous 
barkings  of  steel  muzzles  still  continued  to  thrust  in 
another  and  yet  another  mass  of  loaded  metal  to 
make  the  destruction  complete! 

Resolutely  the  determined  French  knocked  and 
pushed  and  pounded  away  until  Rheims  was  left  in 
the  distance,  and  despite  the  chilling  rains  of  au- 
tumn, the  armies  of  both  sides  floundered  and 
fought  in  the  network  of  the  Marne,  the  Vosges, 
the  Aisne,  and  the  Oise.  That  was  the  beginning 
of  the  Battle  of  the  Rivers. 

No  one  can  say  just  when  it  began,  no  one  will 
ever  be  able  to  write  all  that  happened  in  those 
weary  weeks  and  months;  nor  will  anyone  ever  be 
able  to  say  to  a  certainty  what  was  gained.  The 
Powers  of  Europe  sent  several  millions  of  men  into 
those  cold  marshes  and  waters  to  wade  and  wallow 
and  kill  while  the  rest  of  the  world  passed  a  com- 
fortable winter.  About  the  only  concern  at  the 
time  was  the  hope  that  a  sufficient  number  would  be 
left  in  the  spring  to  make  a  respectable  finish  of  the 
muddle  that  had  neither  head  nor  tail. 

In  one  of  the  teeth  and  toe-nail  night  assaults 
north  of  Soissons,  when  it  was  drizzling  drops  of 


THE  BATTLE  OF  THE  RIVERS        33 

melted  ice,  and  the  darkness  made  all  men  alike, 
Raoul  Beauvais  rammed  and  jammed  with  the 
others.  Furious  charges  were  made  back  and  forth 
over  a  rough  piece  of  high,  forest-covered  ground, 
and  there  French  and  Germans  died  in  heaps — 
sometimes  each  with  his  bayonet  through  the  other. 
Heavy  artillery  fire  from  both  sides  sent  in  shells 
to  spread  momentary  flashes  of  light — and  death. 
Raoul  engaged  an  enemy  on  the  brink  of  a  trench 
the  command  was  seeking  to  capture.  Just  then  a 
sweeping  volley  from  riflemen  cleared  the  ground, 
leaving  the  stalwart  Frank  descendant  from  old 
Picardy  and  a  Teuton  giant  to  fight  alone. 

The  Teuton,  an  officer,  had  lost  his  sword  in  the 
bloody  attacks,  and  fought  with  a  lance  he  had 
picked  up  in  the  rush.  Raoul  parried  the  lance  with 
his  bayonet.  The  brow  veins  of  both  stood  out  as 
they  taxed  each  other  to  the  maximum.  Then  a 
spent  cannon  ball  wiped  the  weapons  from  their 
hands,  and  the  sudden  force  of  the  wrench  cast  the 
antagonists  headlong  into  the  deep  tiled  pit. 

The  trench  was  empty.  To  one  side,  a  temporary 
resting  place  hollowed  out  in  the  bank,  contained  a 
half-burned  lighted  candle.  There  was  not  a  gun 
to  be  had — neither  possessed  a  knife;  nor  were 
stones  handy  to  serve  as  clubs.  Both  men  were 
naked  to  their  waists,  from  scrimmages  in  wire  en- 
tanglements. By  the  rays  of  the  quiet  yellow  blaze 
from  the  candle  in  the  mud  wall,  the  two  maddened 
giants  glared  at  one  another  for  a  moment,  then 


34  THE   INVADER'S   SON 

leaped  together  in  a  knotted  clinch.  Muscles  strained 
muscles;  hate  met  hate  with  looks  of  murder.  Dead- 
locked in  even  strength,  they  rolled  over  to  gnash 
and  struggle  in  the  oozy  slush  at  the  bottom  of  the 
ditch. 

On  the  battlefield  above,  chance  shifted  the  for- 
tunes of  war  further  down  the  hill,  leaving  the  com- 
batants in  the  trench  to  decide  the  issue  for  them- 
selves. No  comrade  could  give  aid — the  winner, 
whether  he  be  Raoul,  or  the  German,  must  triumph 
by  sheer  brute  force.  The  fight  was  shorn  of  mili- 
tary glory.  Approving  commanders  could  not  have 
followed  their  chokings,  scratchings,  beatings,  and 
flounderings  in  the  soft,  cold  slime.  Like  enraged 
hippopotamus  bumping  enraged  hippopotamus  in  a 
jungle  black  hole,  they  wallowed  and  fought  until 
entirely  exhausted.  And  when  at  last,  soaked  and 
swathed  with  filthy  clay,  from  heel  to  crown,  all 
streaked  and  mottled  with  each  other's  blood,  they 
found  themselves  back  again  under  the  gleam  of  the 
candle  in  the  wall. 

The  German  spoke: 

"Neither  of  us  can  win  at  this  dirty  business. 
Hell!" 

Raoul  attempted  to  assault  his  hideous  enemy,  but 
could  only  sit  up  and  shoot  fire  with  his  eyes. 

"It's  finished,  Frenchman.  I  can't  hit  you  either 
I  would." 

"Wait  till  I  get  my  breath,  Hun." 

"A  truce,  then." 


THE  BATTLE  OF  THE  RIVERS        35 

Raoul  ground  his  teeth  savagely.  His  bruised, 
swollen  lips  hissed,  "Vile  beast!" 

At  that  the  German  strove  to  attack,  but  fell  im- 
potent on  his  side. 

The  effort  amused  Raoul. 

"Call  it  a  truce,  Boche,  and  when  we've  rested, 
we'll  get  out  of  this  ditch  and  look  for  swords." 

"That  sounds  fair,  Frenchman — damn  you!" 

"There's  no  honor  in  strangling  a  sausage-maker 
down  here." 

"No !  you're  not  the  breed  of  dog  my  mills  use !" 
said  the  German,  attempting  coarse  wit. 

Speech  was  becoming  common.  They  left  off 
bullying  for  several  minutes,  breathing  heavily  like 
two  leaky  bellows. 

Raoul  a  little  later  dragged  himself  to  a  bit  of 
dry  straw.  The  German  followed  in  silence. 

They  sat  facing  one  another,  as  if  in  grim  awe  of 
each  other's  ugliness.  It  was  utterly  impossible  for 
them  to  fight.  Their  last  exchanges  of  talk  had 
fallen  to  the  level  of  bad  boys'  abuse.  They  merely 
breathed  on,  exposed  to  the  mellowing  influences  of 
human  hearts  beating  tranquilly. 

And  the  magic  of  feelings  began  to  work.  Even 
in  extremity  men  can  appreciate  the  ridiculous. 
Such  warriors  as  Raoul  and  his  enemy  were  only 
men  hardened  by  war.  When  weariness  of  fighting 
had  taken  away  some  of  the  spleen,  the  void  must 
fill  with  another  energy.  It  was  easier  to  be  simply 
human. 


36  THE  INVADER'S  SON 

The  German  smiled. 

Raoul  laughed  in  derision.  A  slight  change  came 
over  him,  and  he  said  honestly:  "You're  the  first 
man  I've  met  that  I  couldn't  smash." 

"So !"  commented  the  German.  "I  was  thinking 
the  same.  I  did  find  one  chap  up  beyond  Hirson 
who  gave  me  trouble,  but  I  beat  him." 

Another  pause  of  contemplation. 

"Hirson?"  asked  Raoul,  interested. 

"Yes.     Our  army  has  all  that  country." 

The  reply  was  a  little  unfortunate,  and  the 
Frenchman  scowled.  The  German  turned  the  con- 
versation. 

"Did  you  say  we  would  finish  our  duel  with 
swords?" 

"Swords — if  we  can  find  two.  Failing,  we  can 
use  bayonets." 

It  was  agreed.  They  sat  for  a  few  minutes  more 
in  silence,  as  if  thinking  bayonets. 

Now  soldiers  dislike  to  fight  with  bayonets.  They 
revolt  at  jabbing  and  slicing  with  cold  steel  attached 
to  the  ends  of  guns.  It  is  said  of  a  bayonet  charge 
between  Russians  and  Japanese,  during  their  late 
war,  that  they  dropped  their  guns  and  threw  rocks 
at  one  another. 

"And  if  you  kill  me,"  ventured  the  German,  "af- 
ter the  war  will  you  send  a  message  to  the  Rhine?" 

"And  if  you  kill  me,"  said  Raoul,  slowly  and 
thoughtfully,  "will  you  send  a  message  for  me?" 

Again  they  agreed,  but  the  messages  waited.  This 


THE  BATTLE  OF  THE  RIVERS        37 

was  the  first  chance  to  be  simply  human.  The  mere 
fact  that  they  had  condescended  to  serve  each  other 
in  peace,  thawed  some  of  the  barrier  of  war. 

It  was  the  Frenchman's  give-and-take  character- 
istic that  prompted  him  to  make  a  proposal. 

"Have  you  a  watch?''  he  began.  Receiving  an 
affirmative  answer,  he  proceeded.  "I  propose  that 
both  of  us  guess  at  the  time.  If  either  of  us  get 
within  thirty  minutes  of  it,  as  indicated  by  your 
watch,  we  shall  fight  out  our  part  of  the  Battle  of 
the  Rivers — unto  death.  If  both  guesses  are  thirty 
minutes,  or  more,  wild  of  the  mark,  then  you  go 
out  one  end  of  the  ditch,  and  I'll  leave  by  the  other; 
we  shall  meet  on  some  other  battlefield." 

The  German  drew  out  a  hunting  case  gold  watch. 
"Guess  first,"  he  said. 

Raoul  did  not  hesitate.  ''Thirty-one  minutes  af- 
ter midnight." 

"Well,  I  say — thirty-two  minutes  after  twelve." 

The  sporting  blood  in  each  impelled  him  to  try 
to  get  within  the  thirty  minutes — each  believing  it 
must  be  near  one  o'clock  in  the  morning. 

"My  watch,"  said  the  German,  before  opening 
it,  "is  key  set — I  couldn't  have  tampered  with  it." 

They  laughed. 

The  lid  of  the  watch  flew  back,  and  both  men 
looked  quickly  to  see  the  hands. 

It  was  three  o'clock  ! 

They  laughed  heartily  then,  and  almost  forgot 
that  they  had  been  trying  to  kill  each  other  a  little 
while  before. 


38  THE   INVADER'S  SON 

"We  both  win,"  said  the  Frenchman — cheerfully. 
For,  after  all,  it  would  be  unpleasant  to  kill  a  stran- 
ger and  report  to  his  family  on  the  Rhine  after  the 
war. 

"May  I  be  of  service?"  asked  the  German. 

Raoul  thought  of  Hermance  in  the  tumbled-down 
chateau  to  the  north,  but  beyond  communication,  in 
the  German  lines.  The  love-light  sprang  into  his 
eyes.  His  pre-eminent  trait  of  catching  first  the 
high  tints  of  beauty  claimed  him,  even  in  that  dug- 
out. He  saw  the  ivy-clad  walls,  the  autumn  leaves 
aglow  in  the  sunlight,  the  stretches  of  landscape 
along  the  Oise — then  back  to  the  gray  battlements, 
with  Hermance  standing  far  above,  her  hand  shad- 
ing her  eyes  as  she  looked  in  vain  for  his  home- 
coming. 

And  the  German  was  thinking  of  his  castle  on  the 
Rhine. 

"Yes;  perhaps  a  little  note — a  brief  letter  you 
would  pass  to  my  wife." 

"Send  what  you  like;  it  will  be  delivered." 

"She  is  in  Ste.  Genevieve,  on  the  Oise." 

"My  command  passed  through  there — now  I  re- 
member, we  rested  there  early  in  the  war." 

"Does  it  yet  stand?"  asked  Raoul,  eagerly. 

"Quite  safe.  I  ordered  the  inhabitants  to  remain 
in  their  houses — only  by  some  unfortunate  acci- 
dents were  two  river  cottages  and  the  old  mill 
burned.  Everything  else  is  in  tactful  protection. 
My  orders  were  so." 


THE  BATTLE  OF  THE  RIVERS        39 

Raoul  did  not  appreciate  this  peculiar  construc- 
tion. He  turned  his  attention  to  the  note. 

The  puzzle  was  what  to  write  with  and  what  to 
write  on — the  men  looked  at  each  other  and 
laughed.  After  considerable  rummaging  about,  they 
found  a  piece  of  brown  paper  under  the  straw. 
Hopeless  searches  were  then  made  for  a  pencil. 

"Do  as  your  countryman  did  in  the  Bastille — use 
blood  for  ink,"  suggested  the  German.  "Here,  this 
ugly  vent  in  my  wrist  bleeds  profusely.  Dip  a  stick 
in  it,  and  write." 

Raoul  took  up  a  splinter  of  wood  and  did  as  re- 
quested. 

"Put  in  it,"  said  the  German,  good-naturedly, 
"this  is  written  with  a  German's  blood !" 

Raoul  wrote  the  exact  words. 

In  the  end,  he  wiped  the  stick  dry,  then  dipped 
it  in  his  own  blood  and  signed  his  name. 

The  writing  was  dried  over  the  candle.  During 
the  interval  of  this  occupation,  fresh  artillery  storms 
began  to  rage.  French  and  German  shells  passed 
each  other  with  angry  growls  overhead. 

Hurriedly  Raoul  folded  the  message. and  handed 
it  to  Count  von  Essenhendel  for  delivery.  For  such 
was  the  German's  name,  but  Raoul  did  not  know  it. 

"Au  revoir"  they  said,  and  parted  ways  in  the 
trench. 


CHAPTER    IV 

A  MEMORY  OF  SIN 

WHEN  Count  von  Essenhendel  arose  the  morning 
after  his  night's  adventure,  and  put  on  a  bright,  new 
uniform,  he  recalled  his  promise  to  forward  the 
French  soldier's  letter. 

Shortly  after  escaping  from  the  trench,  von  Es- 
senhendel's  division  swept  back  that  way,  and  he 
was  soon  safe  within  his  ranks.  The  Germans  re- 
tired to  a  sheltered  depression  in  the  forest,  and 
their  leader  took  a  few  hours'  sleep.  He  called  his 
orderly. 

"Pass  this  note  to  Reindoldt — it  goes  to  Ste. 
Genevieve,"  said  the  Count. 

As  it  was  about  to  leave  his  hand,  he  withdrew 
it  for  a  moment's  glance.  He  looked  on  both  sides 
of  the  folded  sheet  for  the  name  and  address,  and 
failing  to  find  the  superscription,  was  obliged  to 
open  out  the  creases. 

"Madame  Beauvais, 

"Chateau  Morestier," 

he  read  in  astonishment.  He  examined  quickly  the 
signature — "Raoul  Beauvais!"  it  stood — written  in 
the  latter's  own  blood.  The  Count  drew  his  hand 
across  his  clammy  brow.  He  had  been  fighting  for 
his  life  with  the  husband  of  Madame  Beauvais !  He 
twisted  his  mustache  thoughtfully,  and  felt  uncom- 
fortable. 

40 


A  MEMORY  OF  SIN  41 

The  discovery  surprised  him  so  much  that  he  was 
quite  upset.  His  faculties  refused  to  function  prop- 
erly, and  he  muddled  through  a  bad  sensation — in 
most  men,  it  would  have  been  called  a  pang  of  con- 
science. To  be  fair  to  Count  von  Essenhendel,  he 
had  only  stilled  the  conscience  which  his  careful 
mother  had  cultivated  for  him.  Honor  was  not 
entirely  extinct  within  him,  however,  and  when 
her  name  lay  before  his  eyes  in  blood,  a  memory 
of  sin  smote  him. 

For  Von  Essenhendel,  since  his  shameful  visit  to 
Chateau  Morestier,  had  developed  a  violent  love  for 
Hermance  Beauvais.  He  had  begged  her  forgive- 
ness on  bended  knee — and  assured  her  she  would 
never  be  molested  by  anyone.  She  had  spurned  his 
overtures  with  a  disdain  that  only  a  French  girl 
could  feel  under  such  circumstances.  His  pleadings 
that  she  forsake  her  husband  and  become  his  wife 
were  met  with  ravings  that  drove  him  from  her 
presence.  But  again  and  again  he  renewed  his  peti- 
tion. Constantly  she  was  on  his  mind — he  sent  her 
letters  and  presents,  which  were  always  returned. 

And  at  last  to  be  the  messenger  with  a  note  from 
her  husband  stirred  some  well  in  him  that  he  did 
not  understand. 

Nevertheless,  he  steadied  himself  with  a  glass  of 
brandy,  and  sent  the  note  on  to  Reindoldt,  with  in- 
structions to  see  that  it  was  promptly  delivered  at 
Chateau  Morestier. 

During  the  day,  and  at  intervals  for  a  long  time 


42  THE   INVADER'S  SON 

thereafter,  the  invader's  conscience  troubled  him  for 
an  awakening.  His  experiences  with  the  Beauvais 
couple  caused  him  to  reflect.  He  deeply  regretted 
his  conduct,  and  wished  that  he  had  not  committed 
the  sin.  The  charm  of  life  for  the  young  husband 
had  been  ruthlessly  despoiled  by  him.  He,  Count 
Frederick  Wilhelm  von  Essenhendel,  the  pride  of 
his  family,  had  covered  himself  with  shame.  The 
crime  in  all  its  loathsomeness  stared  him  in  the  face 
as  though  it  were  a  living,  threatening  monster. 

The  Count  was  heir  to  extensive  estates  on  the 
Rhine,  and  had  been  brought  up  in  an  atmosphere 
of  the  best  of  German  culture  and  refinement.  A 
dash  into  frightfulness  licensed  by  the  high  com- 
manders of  the  Kaiser  had  temporarily  dulled  his 
senses,  and  made  him  one  of  the  brutes  that  terror- 
ized Europe  in  1914.  He  was  a  victim,  like  most 
full-blooded  young  men  of  his  voluptuous  nature. 
Nevertheless,  the  wholesome  foundation  of  his 
youth  mainstayed  him  to  a  certain  extent.  He  was 
also  brave  and  sensible  of  the  rights  of  others,  and 
even  cherished  a  praiseworthy  determination  of  ac- 
complishing something  in  the  world  that  would  re- 
dound to  the  betterment  of  men.  Like  all  other 
young  Prussians,  he  had  been  fooled  into  believing 
that  the  unsatiated  hunger  of  the  Fatherland  for 
glory  demanded  that  other  nations  be  torn  asunder 
and  punished.  He  was  not  religious.  He  believed 
in  a  God,  but  had  refused  to  follow  the  faith  of  his 
mother.  There  was  nothing  wantonly  mean  in  his 


A  MEMORY  OF  SIN  43 

character.  Duty  to  Kaiser  and  country  was  big  in 
him.  The  love  of  adventure  swept  him  on  in  a 
whirl;  hence  his  recklessness  in  fighting  hand-to- 
hand  combats  in  the  trenches,  when  it  was  not  nec- 
essary for  him  to  expose  himself.  These  things 
and  more  could  be  said  in  favor  of  Count  von  Es- 
senhendel-,  in  spite  of  the  black  mark  this  story 
records  against  him. 


Even  while  the  letter  written  in  the  trench  was 
being  transmitted  by  stages  from  headquarters 
north  of  the  Aisne  to  Ste.  Genevieve,  on  the  Oise, 
Madame  Beauvais  and  two  others,  Father  Pelletier 
and  old  Dr.  Joumonville,  were  concerned  with  the 
right  and  wrong  of  a  certain  problem. 

"It  must  not  be  done,  Dr.  Joumonville,"  the  kind- 
hearted  priest  was  saying,  as  he  walked  the  floor 
with  his  wrinkled  hands  clasped  behind  him.  "It 
would  be  deliberate  murder,  planned  and  consented 
to  by  three  persons — Madame  Beauvais,  you  and 
me.  I  could  never  grant  absolution  for  such  a 
heinous  crime,  though  I  were  not  a  party  to  it. 
There  is  only  one  right  thing  to  do.  Madame  Beau- 
vais must  give  birth  to  the  child,  and  permit  it  a 
fair  chance  in  this  world." 

"But,  Father,  you  do  not  seem  to  comprehend  all 
the  points  of  my  argument.  Try  to  take  a  broad, 
unbiased  view  as  I  go  over  the  case  again,  remem- 
bering always,  of  course,  that  I  am  a  good  Catholic, 


44  THE   INVADER'S  SON 

and  never  in  my  forty  years  of  medical  practice 
have  I  taken  innocent  life,  or  winked  at  imnamable 
crimes  against  nature.  This  is  a  totally  different 
matter.  France  is  at  war  with  a  cruel  enemy. 
Heathen  propensities  are  predominant  in  the  invad- 
ing soldiers  of  this  enemy,  Germany.  The  world 
is  shocked  at  the  atrocities  of  Louvain.  This  peace- 
ful village  is  swooped  down  upon,  and  a  brute — not 
a  man  in  feelings — commits  a  crime,  out  of  which 
is  now  about  to  come  a  life.  This  is  not  a  creation 
willed  by  either  father  or  mother,  by  indiscreet 
lapse  of  human  weakness,  or  through  surreptitious 
disobedience  to  conventionalities  of  society.  It  is 
to  be  born  as  the  direct  result  of  perfidious  sin.  To 
permit  it  to  live,  would  be  to  expose  it  to  the  scorn 
of  the  world  and  the  ill-treatment  of  our  people.  I 
believe  it  would  be  an  act  of  mercy  to  use  some 
harmless  method  of  removing  that  much  suffering 
from  this  long  and  perilous  journey.  I  will  go 
further — in  my  opinion,  it  is  our  duty  to  release 
this  spirit." 

The  expression  on  the  priest's  face  showed  that 
he  had  tried  to  listen  with  an  open  mind.  He  asked 
simply : 

"What  would  God  have  us  do?" 

"It  is  well  you  ask  it,  Father.  Answer  the  ques- 
tion for  us,  and  there  will  be  no  further  hesitance." 

"  'Thou  shalt  not  kill'  is  the  plain,  written  law. 
God  has  not  left  us  in  doubt." 

"True,  Father;  but  does  God  will  a  life  of  torture 


A  MEMORY  OF  SIN  45 

and  shame  for  human  beings?  There  are  excep- 
tions to  rules.  The  written  law  reads :  'Thou  shalt 
honor  the  Sabbath  and  keep  it  holy,'  and  when  the 
Jews  murmured  at  Christ's  disciples  for  having 
plucked  ears  of  corn  on  the  Sabbath,  he  reminded 
them  that  it  was  the  spirit  of  the  law  that  should 
be  kept,  saying:  'Which  of  you  shall  have  an  ass 
or  an  ox  fall  into  a  pit,  and  will  not  immediately 
draw  him  out  on  the  Sabbath  day?'  Ah,  I  believe 
God  would  sanction  this  putting  out  of  misery  an 
undesired  life  before  it  comes  to  know  and  suffer. 
It  is  as  a  creature  in  need  of  help — would  it  not  be 
right  to  relieve  it,  and  pass  it  on  to  the  Creator  who 
gave  it?" 

Father  Pelletier  only  shook  his  head,  and  went 
quietly  from  painting  to  painting  in  the  doctor's 
study,  as  if  appealing  to  the  winged  angels  in  oil, 
the  saints,  the  Christ  himself  on  the  Cross,  for  light 
and  guidance. 

"My  judgment,  my  heart,  my  religion — all  tell  me 
I  must  in  the  name  of  Our  Savior  forbid  this 
crime." 

"Then  the  child  will  grow  up  among  us,"  said 
Dr.  Joumonville  regretfully,  "for  Hermance  Beau- 
vais  will  never  do  what  you  forbid." 

"Ah!  that  I  well  know,  Doctor.  I  must  hasten 
now — she  comes  this  morning  to  plead  her  own 
cause." 

As  Father  Pelletier  shuffled  along  towards  the 
church,  leaning  on  his  stout  cane,  he  saw  Hermance 


46  THE    INADER'S    SON 

already  on  her  way.  There  was  light  in  her  face 
— and  a  renewed  determination. 

She  carried  a  letter  in  her  hand.  One  of  the 
German  soldiers  quartered  in  the  village  had  just 
brought  it  to  her.  It  was  the  first  news  from  Raoul, 
and  it  told  her  many  things  in  a  few  sentences.  Be- 
sides being  a  love  letter,  an  inspiring  message,  it  also 
summoned  her  to  do  her  part  for  France. 

She  waved  the  letter  to  Father  Pelletier,  and  ran 
to  show  it  to  him.  "Written  with  a  German's 
blood!"  she  said,  shuddering  slightly — "and  if  he 
can  write  in  the  blood  of  the  enemy,  how  can  I  pre- 
sent him  with  a  German  child  on  his  return  from  the 
glorious  battlefield  of  victory?  Father,  it  must  not 
be! — it  cannot  be!  Such  a  blow  would  madden 
my  Raoul !" 

The  shepherd  of  the  faithful  flock  made  no  com- 
ment, but  led  the  young  woman  into  his  little  room 
in  the  rear  of  St.  Joseph's. 

Once  within,  he  listened  patiently  to  all  she  had 
to  say.  Then  in  a  steady  voice,  mellowed  by  long 
years  of  holy  service,  and  charged  with  the  respon- 
sibility of  his  sacred  office,  he  laid  down  to  her  the 
divine  law  and  its  interpretations.  Afterwards  he 
stated  plainly  the  wrongs  involved  in  such  an  act 
as  that  proposed.  But  he  felt  how  ineffectual 
studied  argument  was  on  Hermance,  even  while  he 
proceeded.  When  he  had  concluded,  she  poured  out 
the  bitterness  of  her  heart  in  an  unnerving  spell  of 
weeping. 


A  MEMORY  OF  SIN  47 

Then  with  the  inborn  talent  of  any  woman  want- 
ing her  way,  she  swept  aside  all  consideration  of 
what  the  priest  had  said,  and  restated  the  main  point 
to  her  mind — that  she  wished  to  dispose  of  the  child. 
She  supported  her  demand  with  the  most  natural 
and  strongest  of  human  appeals.  Never  had  the 
good  Father  heard  a  more  touching  plea  for  mur- 
der. But  despite  the  wrenchings  at  his  heart,  he 
constantly  shook  his  head  in  refusal. 

For  two  hours,  Hermance  clung  to  his  robe  and 
wept  and  begged  in  turns,  trying  to  touch  every 
human  sentiment  in  him.  Each  refusal  to  grant  her 
permission — or  to  grant  her  absolution  after  com- 
mitting the  act — was  a  signal  to  make  a  greater 
effort  to  influence  his  judgment.  At  last  she  wearied 
the  old  man  and  caused  him  to  weep  with  her. 

It  was  then  that  victory  seemed  to  be  within  her 
grasp.  Her  pleadings  had  been  so  earnest  and  vio- 
lent that  she  lay  exhausted  at  the  Father's  feet.  As 
he  wept,  Hermance  hushed  and  felt  relieved.  The 
faded  red  carpet  on  the  floor  seemed  to  be  softer — 
the  ornaments  and  holy  emblems  about  the  quaint 
room  looked  friendlier.  Nevertheless,  her  swim- 
ming eyes  wanted  greater  comfort,  and  she  sought 
the  face  of  the  Statue  of  the  Virgin.  There,  too, 
the  white  marble,  to  Hermance' s  imagination, 
glowed  with  the  warmth  of  life. 

But  as  the  petitioner  fastened  her  gaze  upon  the 
Holy  Mother's  features,  she  began  to  feel  uneasy. 
The  statue's  eyes  were  glorying  in  that  mysterious 


48  THE   INVADER'S   SON 

maternal  feeling  that  had  already  begun  to  tug  per- 
sistently at  Hermance's  heart.  And,  then,  quiver- 
ing there  on  the  carpeted  flags,  Hermance  allowed 
her  startled  eyes  to  trail  slowly  down  the  statue's 
snow-white  neck  to  its  ample  breasts — and  to  the 
child  clasped  tenderly  to  the  bosom.  She  turned 
away  and  groaned. 

And  she  heard  the  Father  get  up  resolutely  and 
say  "No." 

Having  lost  in  her  attempted  flight  from  her 
husband's  contempt,  Hermance  gave  herself  over  to 
wailing  cries  that  not  only  unbalanced  her  reason, 
but  upset  Father  Pelletier. 

"I  must  take  my  own  life! — I  cannot  go  through 
with  this !" 

The  Father  had  heard  this  same  declaration  from 
women  all  his  life. 

"You  forbid  me?  Then  you  send  me  to  perdi- 
tion!— Oh!  my  poor  Raoul !" 

Over  and  over  again  she  pleaded  and  cried,  until 
the  old  man  was  near  to  distraction.  He  could  not 
answer  her  further — he  began  to  fear  that  she  would 
finally  wring  from  him  permission  to  destroy  the 
child. 

At  the  height  of  her  advantage — for  in  her  lapse 
of  hardness  of  heart,  Hermance  was  determined  to 
win,  and  saw  that  her  wailings  were  telling  upon 
Father  Pelletier, — she  calmed  himself  quickly,  and 
put  the  question  in  even  tones,  leveled  directly  at 
the  Reverend  Father: 


A  MEMORY  OF  SIN  49 

"For  my  sake,  you  will  absolve  me  after  the  deed 
is  done.  Tell  me  'Yes' — quickly!" 

"You  remember  the  vow  you  took  on  your  wed- 
ding day,  Hermance?" 

"Yes,  Father — but  please  say  'Yes !' ' 

"I  do  say  'Yes,'  Hermance,  provided  you  make 
me  one  solemn  promise." 

"Must  I  reaffirm  what  I  said  in  church  that  day? 
— I  do  now,  Father,  with  all  my  heart.  I  recall 
clearly  what  you  said  then,  and  I  will  perform  to 
the  letter." 

"That  is  well,  Hermance,  but  the  promise  I  would 
now  exact  of  you  is  a  little  thing — only  when  you 
have  heard  it,  promise  me  that  you  will  keep  it 
faithfully." 

"Yes,  Father,  I'm  listening." 

"Promise  me,  Hermance,  that  you  will  nurse  the 
babe  once  at  your  breasts  before  you  kill  him." 

Hermance  promised  amid  grateful  tears,  and  in 
transports  of  joy  clasped  the  aged  priest's  feet. 

Then  as  she  was  leaving,  she  noticed  a  merry 
twinkle  in  Father  Pelletier's  eye,  and  it  disturbed 
her. 


CHAPTER   V 

THE   SILENT   ADVOCATE 

INTOXICATED  with  the  success  of  her  visit  to 
Father  Pelletier,  Hermance  went  home  happy  and 
contented — except  when  remembering  the  maternal 
look  on  the  Virgin's  face  and  the  twinkle  in  the 
priest's  eyes.  But  these  she  could  not  understand, 
and  brushed  them  aside  for  future  worry. 

Anyway,  the  crushing  load  of  long,  weary  months 
rolled  off  her  shoulders  to  some  extent,  and  she  sang 
parts  of  an  old  song  as  she  gathered  up  a  few  things 
she  had  made  for  baby  and  threw  them  into  the 
fire !  The  abuse  she  had  suffered,  the  horror  of  her 
condition,  the  fear  for  Raoul's  happiness,  had  tem- 
porarily hardened  her  heart.  If  Father  Pelletier 
had  refused  to  absolve  her  from  sin,  she  might  have 
lost  her  reason  altogether.  But  she  had  milled 
away  at  the  rough  stones  of  her  trouble  until  they 
became  sand — she  could  handle  them  now.  She 
was  free  to  destroy  the  seed  of  the  hated  German, 
and  put  the  harrowing  memory  forever  from  her. 
In  her  strange  ecstasy,  she  played  with  the  sugges- 
tion to  conceal  the  whole  affair  from  Raoul! 

Madame  Morestier  received  Hermance's  an- 
nouncement of  Father  Pelletier's  decision  with  the 
same  moody,  fixed  stare,  and  unconcern,  that  had 
dominated  her  since  the  night  of  the  invasion. 

so 


THE  SILENT  ADVOCATE  51 

Hermance  sometimes  thought  her  mother's  mind 
was  blank.  From  morning  to  night,  the  gray- 
haired  widow,  pale  and  pitifully  sad,  remained  mo- 
tionless for  hours  at  a  time,  or  wandered  aimlessly 
about  the  decaying  structures  that  had  sheltered  the 
Morestiers  for  more  than  twelve  generations.  Was 
it  possible  that  she  brooded  over  the  prospect  of 
German  blood  coming  into  the  family?  Or  did  she 
think  at  all?  The  old  lady  had  been  maltreated  by 
the  soldiers  on  that  fateful  night — and  several  times 
since  she  had  been  near  to  death's  door.  It  was 
probable  that  she  would  never  recover,  and  Her- 
mance, somewhat  resigned  to  the  condition,  did  not 
wonder  at  her  mother's  forlorn,  unresponsive  atti- 
tude, but  went  her  way  to  bask  for  the  time  in  the 
sunshine  of  promised  deliverance. 

The  details  of  how  and  when  the  tragic  deed 
would  be  accomplished  had  not  yet  occurred  to  the 
expectant  mother.  The  permission  to  slay  was  the 
important  thing  for  the  moment — the  safety-valve 
of  her  feelings,  the  antidote  toy  of  imagination  to 
be  twirled  and  fondled  until  the  climax  of  mental 
endurance  had  passed.  But  Hermance  had  not  yet 
suspected  the  innocent  snare  of  the  priest's  exacted 
promise.  For  the  fanciful,  half-maniacal  joy  was 
only  a  drawbridge  thrown  to  her  from  across  the 
abyss,  to  bring  her  to  firmer  footing,  where  God  and 
Nature  could  have  a  fair  hearing. 

And  the  waiting,  the  nerve-wrecking  suspense,  al- 
ready approached  the  end.  By  the  going  down  of 


52  THE   INVADER'S   SON 

the  sun  on  the  same  day  that  Hermance  pleaded  with 
Father  Pelletier,  the  time  was  fulfilled.  The  at- 
tendant satellites  that  were  grouped  about  the  Star 
of  Bethlehem  would  smile  that  night  over  an  un- 
welcomed  advent.  For  at  the  coming  of  twilight, 
when  conscientious  Dr.  Joumonville  was  leaning 
over  the  low  churchyard  wall,  confessing  his  error 
of  judgment  in  trying  to  persuade  that  destruction 
of  innocent  life  is  ever  justifiable — and  incidentally 
enjoying  the  subtle  wisdom  of  Father  Pelletier's 
exacted  promise  from  Hermance, — a  runner  came 
from  the  Chateau  Morestier,  to  request  the  imme- 
diate attendance  of  the  doctor. 

As  Dr.  Joumonville  hurried  away  on  his  crutches, 
he  winked  at  the  man  of  God,  who  smiled  in  return. 


It  was  a  boy.  Dr.  Joumonville  wiped  his  spec- 
tacles, adjusted  them  on  his  nose,  and  in  the  seren- 
ity of  his  professional  dignity,  gave  some  brief  in- 
structions to  Grand'mere  Dauphin.  The  old  grand- 
mother was  almost  as  capable  in  such  matters  as  the 
doctor  himself,  but  she  listened  respectfully  to  his 
crisp,  nasal  orders.  Madame  Beauvais  was  quietly 
looking  at  the  chubby,  curly-headed  mite,  that  lay 
cuddled  in  the  curve  of  her  arm — and  when  the 
babe's  lusty  lungs  began  functioning  in  a  noisy  row, 
maternal  distress  clouded  the  young  mother's  coun- 
tenance. Dr.  Joumonville  hobbled  to  the  door — and 
as  if  nearly  forgetting,  turned  and  said  brusquely: 


THE  SILENT  ADVOCATE  53 

"In  three  days,  Madame,  I  will  call  to  carry  out 
your  wish  regarding  the  child — if  by  then  you  have 
complied  with  your  promise  to  Father  Pelletier." 

Grand'mere  Dauphin  searched  the  physician's 
laughing  eyes  over  her  cracked  lenses. 

Hermance  looked  at  him  inquiringly. 

When  the  doctor  had  gone,  and  the  room  was 
tidied,  the  storm  in  Hermance's  mind  subsided. 
She  became  calm — the  past  was  laid  aside  for  the 
present.  She  was  in  perfect  health — rested,  wide- 
awake and  at  ease.  The  flower-perfumed  air  of 
spring  filled  the  large,  square  room  with  the  ozone 
of  vigor.  Birds  warbled  and  whistled  on  the  new- 
leafed  boughs.  From  neighboring  barnyards  came 
the  clucking  of  hens  and  the  bleatings  of  May 
calves. 

On  the  morning  of  the  second  day  Hermance  ob- 
served Madame  Dauphin  as  she  arranged  the  table 
after  removing  the  breakfast  dishes,  and  said : 

"Grand' mere,  I  am  happy.  Explain  to  me  why  I 
should  be  so — why  this  peace  that  glows  in  my 
heart.  Tell  me  what  this  feeling  of  tenderness  is 
— this  awakening  of  a  yearning  that  is  fast  chang- 
ing my  point  of  view.  I  do  not  think  as  I  thought, 
I  do  not  see  as  I  saw — there  is  a  thrill  somewhere 
here — all  through  me.  Tell  me,  Grand'mere,  what 
is  it  that  creeps  over  me  like  the  enthralling  pleasure 
of  music,  and  what  is  it  that  makes  me  feel  more 
important — I  mean,  makes  me  want  to  enjoy  this 
sweet  responsibility.  That  is  not  exactly  what  I 


54  THE  INVADER'S  SON 

am  trying  to  say,  and  perhaps  it  is — tell  me, 
Grand' mere!" 

"The  awakening  of  Mother's  love,  my  child,"  re- 
plied the  wrinkled-faced,  time-tried,  God-fearing 
old  woman,  and  she  caressed  Hermance's  fair  brow. 

Thus  began  the  pleadings  of  the  silent  advocate. 
Other  pleaders  made  a  show  of  speaking  and  of  ges- 
tures and  of  tears,  but  the  silent  pleader  would  have 
none  of  these  things.  This  Mother's  love  did  not 
come  forth  and  parade  before  men,  and  try  to  win 
by  the  witchery  of  beauty  and  splendor;  but  it 
sprang  full-grown  in  its  birthplace,  the  royal  tri- 
bunal in  the  heart,  and  from  that  throne  it  filled 
every  cell  and  attuned  every  fiber  of  the  woman. 
It  looked  out  of  her  eyes.  It  became  a  bright  and 
cherry  spot  in  her  life  from  that  moment  forth. 
Trouble  could  never  lessen  its  warmth.  Cruelty,  neg- 
lect, insult — nothing  might  ever  still  its  voice.  Even 
after  death  its  yearning  would  not  cease. 

Hermance  understood.  Her  eyes  wandered  to 
the  open  window,  and  she  looked  far  out  over  the 
budding  hills,  and  wondered.  The  while  she  thought 
she  was  conscious  of  a  little  hand  clutching  at  her 
heart,  and  she  heard  an  even,  measured  breathing 
at  her  side.  She  gazed  into  the  blue  of  the  heavens 
and  tried  to  read  beyond  the  vale.  She  turned  and 
looked  into  the  little  eyes  and  there  read  plainly  all 
she  wished  to  know- 

At  the  close  of  the  third  day,  when  the  candles 
were  lighted  to  chase  away  the  first  shades  of  night, 


THE  SILENT  ADVOCATE  55 

Dr.  Joumonville  bustled  abruptly  into  the  room. 
He  carried  a  basket  which  creaked  against  his 
crutch.  In  the  other  hand  he  held  a  barbarous-look- 
ing knife,  which  gleamed  threateningly  as  he  said : 

"Good  evening,  Madame — I  have  come !" 

"But  why  that  fearful  knife,  Doctor? — and  the 
basket?" 

"Murder,  my  dear  woman — have  you  forgotten? 
— give  him  to  me  at  once." 

Horror  overspread  Hermance's  face,  and  she 
drew  her  baby  to  her  with  both  arms. 

"Sacre!  women  always  change  their  minds!"  said 
Dr.  Joumonville,  pretending  disgust,  as  he  stalked 
out  of  the  room. 


CHAPTER   VI 

THE  DEAF  AND  DUMB   SPY 

ABOUT  the  time  of  the  birth  of  the  invader's  son, 
the  French  Army  General  Staff  required  special  in- 
formation regarding  the  strength  and  position  of  the 
Germans  north  of  the  Aisne  on  to  the  Belgian  boun- 
dary. Commanders  of  army  corps  who  had  been 
opposing  and  investing  the  enemy  in  that  region, 
and  particularly  around  Compiegne,  Soissons,  Eper- 
nay,  Chalons,  and  Reims,  were  called  upon  to  sub- 
mit the  names  of  volunteers  for  the  dangerous  role 
of  spy  to  the  Prussian  camps.  Out  of  the  ten  men 
who  came  forward,  one  would  be  selected.  The 
choice  fell  upon  Raoul  Beauvais.  His  native  wit 
and  intimate  knowledge  of  the  country,  and  initia- 
tive and  bravery,  had  already  won  him  promotion 
in  the  ranks.  These  qualifications  made  him  by  far 
the  best  man  for  the  undertaking. 

Therefore,  disguised  as  a  poor  deaf  and  dumb 
peasant,  suffering  from  a  peculiar  hacking  cough, 
Raoul  set  out  in  the  middle  of  April,  1915,  to  wan- 
der through  the  enemy's  lines,  and  over  the  country 
at  the  peril  of  his  life.  He  left  the  French  army 
in  the  neighborhood  of  Rethel,  on  the  Aisne,  and 
after  undergoing  many  hardships,  made  his  way 
through  the  German  hosts,  beyond  the  battle  front 
to  Liart,  west  of  Mezieres  on  the  Meuse.  Five 

56 


THE  DEAF  AND  DUMB  SPY          57 

times  he  was  arrested  and  examined,  but  turned 
loose  as  a  harmless  fool.  Several  times  sentries 
shot  at  him  because  he  did  not  stop.  At  Liart,  he 
was  arrested  for  the  sixth  time,  and  taken  before 
the  commanding  officer  of  the  Germans  in  that 
locality. 

"What  is  your  name?"  asked  the  interpreter. 

No  reply.  The  guard  next  to  him  struck  him  a 
heavy  blow  on  the  shoulder,  and  to  Raoul's  sur- 
prised, inquiring  look,  made  frantic  signs  for  him 
to  tell  his  name.  They  then  tried  several  tricks  to 
get  him  to  show  that  he  feigned  deafness,  as  they 
believed.  Guns  were  fired  suddenly  behind  him. 
While  a  prearranged  silence  reigned,  one  of  the  of- 
ficers said  to  another,  without  looking  in  Raoul's 
direction:  "That  peasant  idiot  has  blood  on  the 
back  of  his  left  hand.  He  may  be  a  murderer." 
Whereas,  Raoul  had  not  flinched  at  the  firing  of 
guns,  he  now  very  nearly  dropped  his  eyes  to  his 
hand.  It  was  just  what  anyone  would  have  done. 
But,  finally,  the  Germans,  failing  in  everything  they 
had  tried,  decided  to  put  the  prisoner  to  the  final 
test,  and  the  military  court  went  through  the  for- 
mality of  ordering  him  to  be  shot.  The  mock  sen- 
tence was  solemnly  repeated  to  Raoul  in  German, 
French,  English  and  Russian.  Through  it  all  he 
was  unconcerned,  and  just  as  they  commanded  that 
he  be  led  out  and  executed  at  once,  he  fumbled  in 
his  pocket  for  a  match,  and  from  another  quarter 
of  his  ragged  attire,  brought  out  a  half-burned 
cigarette. 


58  THE   INVADER'S   SON 

"It's  no  use!"  cried  the  general.  "Push  him  out 
the  door — he's  harmless." 

On  and  on  he  wandered,  getting  an  occasional 
flogging,  and  sometimes  being  shut  up  in  prison  for 
a  day  or  two,  but  his  antics  and  quaint  music  on  the 
piccolo,  and  his  silly  facial  expressions  which  he 
practiced,  as  well  as  the  funny  cough,  passed  him 
on  safely  from  place  to  place,  until  one  morning  he 
walked  over  the  high  stone  bridge  into  Ste.  Gene- 
vieve.  A  number  of  German  soldiers  idled  in  front 
of  Caddo  Felon's  shoe  shop,  and  these  Raoul  es- 
sayed to  entertain  with  his  shrill  music. 

A  crowd  soon  collected.  Scattered  about  among 
the  soldiers  were  several  of  Raoul's  former  friends 
— the  old,  lame,  or  incapacitated  for  war.  But  they 
did  not  recognize  him.  And  that  fact  convinced 
Raoul  of  the  effectiveness  of  his  disguise. 

After  playing  all  the  local  pieces,  he  danced  the 
Champenois  Wine  Fete.  Then  he  fell  on  the  ground 
,  in  a  fit  of  his  extraordinary  coughing.  Recovering 
with  apparent  difficulty,  he  proceeded  to  pass  around 
his  cap.  Many  centimes  were  dropped,  and  the  sol- 
diers contributed  pfenning.  Raoul  thanked  them, 
bowing  very  low,  and  smiling,  made  signs  to  his 
audience  that  he  could  neither  speak  nor  hear. 

Many  children  followed  him  down  the  street  to 
the  cafe,  and  stood  about  the  door  while  he  ate. 
He  heard  some  of  the  little  fellows  trying  to  imitate 
his  cough,  and  Raoul  smiled,  because  he  knew  every 
one  of  them  by  name.  There  was  tiny  Jacqueline, 


THE  DEAF  AND  DUMB  SPY          59 

who  wore  a  pair  of  sabots  he  had  given  her.  Over 
by  the  well  were  Helene  and  Edouard  Trellier,  both 
of  whom  he  had  carried  many  times  on  his  back. 

The  lunch  finished,  Raoul  came  out  and  played 
and  danced  for  the  children  especially,  for  that  was 
what  the}-  were  waiting  for  all  the  while.  In  the 
midst  of  a  heel-and-toe  jog,  a  favorite  dance  in  the 
Guise  district,  the  deaf  and  dumb  spy  was  aston- 
ished at  seeing  Hermance  pass  by,  in  working 
clothes,  carrying  a  young  baby.  He  quickly  made 
his  bow  to  the  children  and  walked  off  abruptly  to 
a  place  of  vantage,  so  that  he  could  look  at  Her- 
mance again. 

"It  is  a  shame  that  poor  Hermance  must  take  her 
baby  with  her  when  she  works — and  the  child  so 
young,"  Roger  the  Joker  was  saying  to  Picard,  the 
wine  merchant. 

Again  Raoul  came  near  forgetting  that  he  was 
playing  deaf  and  dumb.  Gradually  he  turned  about 
so  that  he  could  catch  every  word  the  men  were 
saying.  What  were  they  talking  about  anyway? — 
Hermance' s  baby ! 

"Yes,  she's  right,"  said  old  Picard.  "It's  not  safe 
to  leave  him  in  the  chateau — they  say  Madame  Mo- 
restier  would  kill  him.  And  Hermance  is  so  fond 
of  little  Paul." 

"Fond  of  little  Paul!"  ran  on  through  Raoul's 
mind,  repeating  itself  so  often  that  he  tried  to  com- 
prehend the  strange  thing  that  had  happened.  A 
choky  feeling  came  into  his  throat.  What!  had 


60  THE   INVADER'S   SON 

Hermance  so  soon  after  his  departure  been  made 
to  believe  him  dead — killed  in  battle,  perhaps, — and 
induced  to  marry  Paul  Hilot,  the  one-eyed  chemist? 
It  was  impossible!  And  yet  there  was  the  baby — 
Hermance's  baby!  "Madame  Morestier  would  kill 
him."  The  baby  must  be  a  boy.  Why,  of  course! 
"Fond  of  little  Paul !" — certainly  it  was  a  boy.  And 
undoubtedly,  smooth-tongued  Paul  Hilot  had  told 
the  lie,  or  else  why  was  Madame  Morestier  so  bit- 
ter? She  had  always  detested  Paul  Hilot,  the  liar 
and  deceiver!  So  ran  the  tirade  of  questions  and 
exclamations,  as  Raoul  hesitated,  amazed,  wonder- 
ing what  he  should  do.  Yes,  he  would  overtake  her 
beyond  the  village  and  demand  an  explanation. 

But  as  Raoul  hurried  along,  three  determined 
German  soldiers  barred  the  way  and  arrested  him. 
They  dragged  him  into  a  narrow  alley,  and  hustled 
him  forward  in  spite  of  his  cough,  which  he  affected 
with  great  zeal. 

"You  claim  to  be  deaf  and  dumb,"  one  of  them 
said  to  him  in  very  broken  French.  "Ah,  oui,  you 
lie !  If  you  be  deaf,  how  is  it  you  play  music?  How 
could  you  know  some  new  pieces  ?  Auch  so !  mein 
Heber  Gott!  You  are  one  spy!" 

Raoul  maintained  his  presence  of  mind  and  acted 
his  part,  but  the  point  of  the  music  was  well  taken, 
and  it  troubled  him.  It  almost  caused  him  to  forget 
the  discovery  he  had  made  regarding  Hermance. 
And  he  set  himself  the  task  of  working  out  this  knot 
holding  so  fast  in  his  rope — if  he  failed,  the  noose 


6i 

would  quickly  form  and  hang  him.  "How  very 
strange,"  he  kept  repeating  mentally,  "that  I  should 
have  overlooked  a  point  so  important."  Then  he 
wondered  how  it  had  happened  that  other  Germans 
had  not  picked  him  up  on  his  playing  their  new  tunes 
as  he  went  along. 

"You  had  better  make  a  clean  confession  this 
time,"  derisively  continued  the  talkative  captor,  "or 
put  up  a  tale  that  will  stand  all  tests.  I  tell  you, 
friend,  you've  made  the  fatal  error  this  time." 

The  idee  fixe  in  Raoul's  mind,  namely,  that  a  fool 
is  always  safe,  was  drawn  upon  for  whatever  it 
could  provide.  He  put  on  his  silliest  look  and  pre- 
tended that  he  enjoyed  being  cuffed  about.  He  be- 
came natural  to  a  fault  of  his  pretending — and  occa- 
sionally went  into  spasms  of  queer  coughing.  This 
cough  finally  aroused  the  risibility  of  the  soldiers, 
and  eventually  they  gave  way  to  roars  of  laughter. 

"He  is  a  silly  ass !"  said  one  of  the  soldiers  who 
had  been  silent  so  far  except  for  his  laughing.  A 
third  one  added,  "Poor  devil !  eight  German  bullets 
out  of  a  platoon  would  be  an  act  of  mercy  to  him." 

Raoul's  captors  spoke  exclusively  in  bad  French, 
because  they  intended  that  he  should  hear.  This 
much  he  surmised,  and  concluded  that  he  had  fallen 
into  the  hands  of  spy  experts — probably  they  had 
followed  him  from  Liart. 

"Some  accident  in  childhood,"  said  the  presiding 
officer — Raoul  knowing  that  dumbness  is  a  direct 
result  of  deafness  in  childhood,  feared  that  they 


62  THE   INVADER'S   SON 

would  examine  his  tongue.  "Well,  ask  him  how 
long  he  has  been  a  fool.  He  printed  one  word — 
Dinant — ask  him  to  write  more." 

More  Teutonic  energy  was  expended  on  him  than 
it  would  have  required  to  take  one  hundred  kilo- 
meters of  trenches  instead  of  the  regulation  five 
hundred  meters,  but  the  most  he  could  be  induced  to 
do  was  to  print  the  names  of  Dinant  and  other  vil- 
lages near  the  Belgian  border. 

The  officer  turned  away  in  great  disgust.  "Fool ! 
fool !"  he  said,  stamping  and  muttering  to  himself. 

Raoul  thought  it  time  to  have  another  laugh,  and 
began  slowly  at  first,  and  then  coughed  by  easy 
stages  until  he  had  worked  up  to  a  marvelous  volume 
of  variations.  They  opened  the  door  of  the  old 
house  that  served  as  headquarters,  and  pushed  him 
into  the  street. 

For  a  minute  he  stood  looking  back  at  the  laugh- 
ing soldiers  with  the  most  injured  expression  he 
could  command,  and  after  shaking  his  head  and 
shrugging  his  shoulders,  walked  aimlessly  towards 
the  river.  He  knew  that  they  still  watched  him, 
and  therefore  betook  himself  to  several  houses,  in 
full  view,  where  he  made  signs  of  begging  for  some- 
thing to  eat. 

And  in  the  meantime  he  coughed  consistently. 

There  was  now  only  one  thing  uppermost  in 
Raoul's  thoughts — Hermance  and  her  baby.  He 
would  go  immediately  to  seek  her  in  the  fields. 
Why  was  she  working  in  the  fields  ?  The  lazy  Paul 


THE  DEAF  AND  DUMB  SPY          63 

Hilot!  But  why  was  she  not  sewing? — her  mother 
could  always  do  fitting  to  please  the  women.  Fi- 
nally he  thought  it  best  to  pretend  to  beg  at  the 
chateau,  and,  if  unobserved,  make  himself  known 
to  Madame  Morestier.  Old  Picard  had  as  much 
as  said  that  she  remained  at  home.  And  wandering 
through  the  village  greens,  trying  to  imitate  the 
casual  French  beggar,  he  drew  near  the  old  chateau, 
and  made  his  way  through  the  trellised  entrance. 
He  presented  himself  at  the  front  door,  and  since 
no  one  had  followed,  ventured  in  and  mounted  to 
the  apartment  on  the  third  floor. 

"Ah,  Madame !"  he  exclaimed  on  meeting  Her- 
mance's  mother.  ''I  intended  to  surprise  you." 

"Who  are  you?"  asked  Madame  Morestier  in  a 
strange  voice. 

"Why,  I  am  Raoul.  Ssh !"  he  whispered,  by  way 
of  caution.  "I'm  a  spy." 

"A  spy!"  she  repeated,  frightened.  The  mystery 
appealed  to  her  deranged  mind,  which  he  knew 
nothing  of,  and  she  looked  cunning.  "I  know  what 
you  came  for — you  want  that  baby.  Don't  blame 
you.  Take  him  and  kill  him.  I  would  if  I  could. 
I  did  try,  but  Hermance  is  such  a  fool — she  caught 
me  when  I  was  about  to  drown  him  in  the  fountain 
at  the  back,  and  took  him  away.  She  loves  the  baby 
better  than  she  loves  me." 

"Where  is  she  now,  Madame?" 

"I  don't  know.  Every  day  she  takes  the  baby  and 
goes  away.  I  suppose  she  goes  to  that  German." 


64  THE  INVADER'S  SON 

"What  German !    Tell  me,  is  he  a  German  ?" 

"Of  course !  I  tell  you  Hermance  has  a  German 
baby! — think  of  it!  My  God!  deliver  me  from 
this  world!" 

Raoul  felt  himself  growing  dizzy.  A  grinding 
noise  smote  his  ears  and  he  heard  steps.  Quickly 
collecting  his  wits  he  forsook  the  wailing  Madame 
Morestier,  and  hurried  down  the  stairs,  coughing. 

Germans  again,  of  course,  and  they  took  him  into 
custody  with  a  very  determined  flourish  of  author- 
ity. This  would  certainly  be  his  very  last  day  on 
earth.  Madame  Morestier  would  be  questioned — 
she  would  either  deny  him,  to  protect  him,  not  think- 
ing to  deny  also  that  he  spoke  and  heard,  or  she 
might  unguardedly  admit  his  identity.  In  either 
event  he  would  be  convicted  of  spying.  Oh,  well! 
what  did  it  matter,  after  all?  Hermance  devoted  to 
a  German!  Raoul  heartily  wished  they  would  take 
him  immediately  and  shoot  him.  What  was  there 
for  him  to  live  for — his  country's  sake?  Yes,  he 
had  served  his  country  well,  but  the  light  that 
showed  him  the  way  was  his  love  for  Hermance. 
Now,  had  she  spurned  him  for  another  man  ?  "Fond 
of  little  Paul,  indeed!"  and  the  world  went  round 
in  a  dark  maze. 

One  thought  saved  Raoul.  If  he  broke  down 
and  was  shot  as  a  spy,  Hermance  would  triumph 
over  him.  His  memory  would  be  held  in  derision 
by  her,  even  though  she  were  a  traitress,  and  dis- 
grace to  her  country.  No,  he  would  not  go  back 


THE  DEAF  AND  DUMB  SPY         65 

on  France!  He  would  not  give  up.  If  they  con- 
victed him,  it  must  be  so,  but  in  that  case  he  would 
die  in  the  service  of  the  Republic. 

His  captors  were  the  same  three  soldiers  who  had 
detained  him  a  short  time  before.  "Ha!"  said  the 
talkative  one,  "we  shall  not  let  you  go  so  soon. 
We  think  we  have  you  now,  please.  I  think  you 
are  the  same  man  that  worked  in  the  gas  plant  at 
Stuttgart.  We  shall  see.  You  go  there  mit  us, 
and  mit  the  men  who  worked  there.  You  cannot 
lie  so  cleverly,  so !" 

That  was  a  new  turn  in  events.  Raoul  was 
hardly  prepai-ed  for  such  a  change,  but  then,  it 
freed  him  from  the  danger  likely  to  follow  from 
his  having  made  himself  kno^vn  to  Madame  Mo- 
restier.  Of  course,  that  possibility  could  follow 
him,  if  she  ever  mentioned  that  he  had  been  at  the 
chateau.  Anyway,  he  seemed  destined  for  a  trip 
into  Germany.  In  their  overzealousness,  stupid 
thoroughness,  they  would  probably  increase  his 
chances  for  observation.  He  must  train  his  ear  a 
little  more  for  the  German  the  old  schoolmaster  had 
tauglit  him. 

Very  little  time  elapsed  from  his  second  arrest  in 
Ste.  Genevieve  until  he  was  set  down  at  the  gas  fac- 
tory in  Stuttgart,  where  they  were  filling  shells  with 
the  fearful  product.  They  had  planned  ahead  that 
Raoul  would  be  taken  to  the  machine  he  was  sup- 
posed to  have  operated,  without  notify  ing  Dther  em- 
ployees. If  they  recognized  him  as  Otto  Biedmann, 


66  THE   INVADER'S  SON 

he  was  to  be  taken  out  immediately  and  shot.  There- 
fore, he  was  ushered  into  the  great  factory.  But 
no  one  recognized  him. 

The  manager  said:  "Take  away  that  coughing 
fool!" 

What  were  they  to  do  with  him?  Not  even  a 
German  likes  the  idea  of  killing  a  fool.  The  au- 
thorities did  not  want  him  left  in  Stuttgart.  They 
decided  to  send  him  to  the  Belgian  frontier  to  work 
digging  ditches.  Hence,  away  they  whirled  him 
again,  and  in  a  few  days  he  found  himself  working 
along  with  English  and  French  prisoners  of  war. 

But  neither  would  they  have  him — his  cough  was 
too  much,  even  for  the  trenches.  They  shunted 
him  off  to  beg,  or  get  on  as  best  he  could. 

Raoul  Beauvais,  therefore,  well-stocked  with  in- 
formation, began  to  move  forward  cautiously.  He 
had  managed  to  reach  the  neighborhood  of  Avesnes, 
north  of  the  Oise,  but  each  step  forward  became 
more  difficult.  The  odd  peculiarities  he  had  so  stu- 
diously assumed,  were  telling  on  him  fearfully.  It 
was  even  doubtful  whether  he  could  ever  shake  off 
his  cough.  Besides,  he  was  almost  a  nervous  wreck. 
A  few  more  arrests  would  certainly  bring  about 
complete  collapse.  But  he  must  push  on  and  on — 
must  get  back  to  the  French  lines  somehow. 

Having  arrived  in  the  country  of  his  boyhood, 
Raoul  trusted  no  further  to  his  luck  in  daylight. 
He  abandoned  begging,  and  slipped  through  the 
forests  and  plains  by  night,  crawling  past  camps 


67 

of  the  enemy,  running  great  risks.  On  a  certain 
midnight,  he  reached  Guise,  on  the  Oise. 

''Is  that  you,  Rene?"  he  asked  from  the  roof  of 
a  aed,  as  a  shaggy  head  appeared  in  a  window  of 
an  adjoining  cottage. 

"Yes." 

"Bicn!     I  am  Raoul  Beauvais." 

"Mou  Dicn!  mon  ami!  crawl  close  to  the  wall — 
I  will  help  you  in  this  way." 

Once  within,  Raoul  explained  :  "Now,  Rene,  you 
must  give  up  that  light  canoe  of  yours  to  the  cause 
of  France." 

"Yes." 

''Go  by  day — early  in  the  morning,  to  the  cedars 
and  pine  thickets  on  the  point  out  from  your  place 
below,  and  pretend  to  be  clearing  just  on  the  edge 
all  day.  Cut  the  small  trees  and  let  them  be  thrown 
into  the  river  to  float  down.  Keep  a  stream  of  them 
on  the  float  all  da)- — work  on  into  the  night." 

"But  the  Oise  is  almost  yet  in  flood  from  the 
rains,  and  will  carry  them  on  down  to  the  Seine. 
I  shall  get  into  trouble  for  littering  the  river." 

"I  know  no  law — besides  it  is  necessary  for  the 
sake  of  France." 

"As  you  like,"  replied  old  Rene  Vincent.  "What 
then?" 

"When  you  go  in  the  morning,  provision  the 
light  canoe — the  one  that  has  the  rudder — with 
enough  food  to  last  one  man  a  number  of  days. 
Late  in  the  evening,  cut  a  very  thick  cedar,  but  a 


68  THE  INVADER'S  SON 

short  one,  and  tie  it  lengthwise  over  the  boat,  see- 
ing that  the  latter  is  carefully  covered.  Weave  in 
false  branches  and  make  it  look  like  a  well-rounded 
tree,  a  trifle  more  dense  in  growth." 

"Bien!!" 

"Then,  Rene,  I  shall  come  to  you  just  after  dark, 
and  lie  down  in  the  boat.  You  will  then  push  it  out 
towards  the  current.  Put  the  oars  inside — the  rest 
I  shall  do  when  necessity  demands." 

"I  understand.    Then  what  shall  I  do?" 

"Continue  to  cut  cedars  and  pines,  throwing  them 
into  the  river,  until  someone  comes  and  tells  you  to 
stop." 

In  this  manner,  Raoul  Beauvais  attempted  to  float 
beyond  the  German  boundary,  into  the  lines  of  the 
French. 

By  the  second  day,  a  great  outcry  came  up  from 
below.  A  long  line  of  cedars  and  pines  went  trail- 
ing on,  about  fifty  yards  apart.  The  Germans 
thought  they  concealed  mines — but  from  where? 
Men  in  boats  were  kept  for  half  a  day  in  mid  stream 
examining  each  one  as  it  came  along.  Some  one 
was  turning  the  whole  forest  into  the  river.  Stop 
him !  But  the  trees  were  left  to  go  on  to  annoy  the 
French.  The  Germans  thought  they  saw  in  it  a 
joke,  and  ordered  the  blockading  cables  lifted  to  let 
the  cedars  pass. 

Likewise  much  curiosity  was  aroused  in  the 
French  camps.  After  ten  or  twelve  floated  by, 
they  began  to  fire  on  the  cedars  to  see  what  became 


THE  DEAF  AND  DUMB  SPY          69 

• 
of  it — then,  as  the  Germans  had  done,  men  went  out 

in  boats  to  examine  the  trees.  They  looked  innocent 
enough,  but  the  wary  French  said:  "A  joke,  per- 
haps, but  the  Germans  know  what  they  are  about — 
we  shall  see !" 

Poor  Rene  was  roughly  handled.  The  Germans 
near  Guise  came  down  and  caught  him  industriously 
engaged  in  cutting  and  casting  out,  as  though  he  had 
gone  crazy  and  imagined  that  he  fed  fodder  to  some 
monster  of  the  waters.  "Foolish  mad  man!"  they 
exclaimed,  and  put  him  in  prison  for  a  week  on 
bread  and  water. 

The  tree  under  which  Raoul  reclined,  drifted  on 
through  the  German  outposts  to  within  a  quarter 
of  a  mile  of  the  French.  In  another  half  hour  he 
would  have  been  safe,  without  incident,  but  for  the 
frolicking  of  some  soldiers  with  a  dog.  They  were 
throwing  a  piece  of  dry  wood  into  the  river  and 
urging  the  dog,  \vhich  happened  to  be  a  savage  one, 
to  swim  out  and  bring  it  back  to  the  bank,  only  to 
be  sent  back  after  it  again  and  again.  Each  time 
the  block  would  be  thrown  farther  out,  and  finally, 
it  alighted  in  Raoul's  tree  and  hung.  The  dog 
came  swimming  after  it  as  before.  He  held  his 
head  and  ears  just  above  the  water  line  until  he 
reached  the  concealed  boat.  On  discovering  Raoul, 
lying  at  full-length  on  his  back,  the  dog  began  to 
bark  furiously,  and  endeavored  to  climb  over  the 
edge  of  the  canoe. 

By  and  by,  the  Germans  concluded  something 


70  THE   INVADER'S  SON 

unusual  must  be  lodged  in  the  tree,  and  a  boat  was 
put  out  to  investigate. 

It  was  getting  dark,  but  Raoul  could  see  this 
threatening  move.  He  saw  that  they  would  over- 
take him  before  he  could  float  to  safety,  although 
it  could  not  be  very  far  to  the  haven  he  sought. 
However,  the  long  journey  he  had  taken  was  now 
about  to  end  in  failure,  or  at  least  in  great  excite- 
ment. The  German  boat  was  gaining  at  every 
pull  of  the  double  set  of  oars,  and  the  dog  was  likely 
to  mount  into  the  boat  under  the  tree  at  any  moment, 
causing  the  craft  to  upset  or  fill  with  water.  Some- 
thing must  be  done. 

Raoul  clipped  the  cords  that  bound  the  tree  and 
branches  to  the  canoe,  and  pushed  them  off  into  the 
water.  The  dog  became  frantic.  Raoul  was  then 
quite  out  of  patience  with  the  animal,  and  dealt  him 
a  heavy  blow  with  the  oar.  That  silenced  the  dog, 
but  overturned  the  boat ! 

A  shout  went  up  from  the  Germans  in  the  dis- 
tance, and  immediately  little  flashes  could  be  seen 
spurting  out  in  the  gathering  darkness.  Jets  of 
water  splashed  up  now  and  again,  and  Raoul,  stiff 
from  lying  in  one  position  so  long,  fought  with  the 
murky  river  in  an  effort  to  keep  himself  afloat.  But 
he  began  to  swim  after  a  little  struggling,  keeping 
as  much  under  water  as  possible — often  swimming 
for  a  few  seconds  entirely  beneath.  The  firing 
ceased,  and  he  saw  the  intention  was  to  run  him 
down  with  the  boat. 


THE  DEAF  AND  DUMB  SPY          71 

The  erstwhile  spy  made  for  the  left  bank,  where 
there  appeared  to  be  a  clump  of  willows.  But  the 
enemy  was  gaining,  and  he  began  to  feel  his  strength 
giving  way  so  that  now  and  again  he  was  forced 
to  tread  water  and  rest. 

Suddenly,  a  white  pencil  of  a  searchlight  was 
ranged  on  the  river's  surface,  and  in  a  minute,  firing 
began  on  the  left  bank!  Raoul  was  soon  grabbing 
at  twigs  on  a  ball-shaped  point.  An  instant  later, 
a  soldier  helped  him  to  his  feet !  He  recognized  his 
rescuers  as  a  part  of  the  advanced  lines  of  the 
French.  The  poilus  opened  fire  on  the  German 
boat,  and  thus  ended  the  pursuit. 


CHAPTER  VII 

FOR  HIS  SAKE 

ALTHOUGH  Hermance's  heart  went  out  to  her  baby 
in  the  fullness  of  Mother  love,  and  she  had  put 
forever  from  her  the  thought  of  permitting  harm 
to  come  to  him,  yet  she  was  deeply  troubled  over 
his  presence  in  her  humble  home.  What  would 
Raoul  say?  Would  he  not  want  to  send  the  child 
away?  Undoubtedly  he  would  want  it  disclosed 
to  annoying  people  that  for  one  reason  or  another, 
the  baby  had  been  placed  in  another's  keeping.  Or, 
perhaps,  Raoul  would  want  secrecy  maintained,  lest 
the  village  gossips  might  destroy  the  happiness  of 
their  future  lives. 

With  all  these  considerations  running  through 
her  mind,  and  perhaps  from  the  inborn  instinct  of 
a  mother's  protecting  care,  inspired  by  God  himself 
— Hermance  from  the  beginning,  kept  her  suffer- 
ings and  her  mother's  within  the  walls  of  Chateau 
Morestier,  except  to  Father  Pelletier,  Dr.  Joumon- 
ville,  and  Grand'mdre  Dauphin.  These  three  were 
pledged  to  absolute  silence.  Hermance  did  not 
know  how  much  the  village  people  knew  of  the 
affair,  and  was  afraid  to  ask  even  Grand' m^re.  As 
a  matter  of  fact,  the  neighbors  knew  nothing. 

Nevertheless,  as  time  went  on,  the  village  and 
country  matrons  wondered.  Hermance  and  Raoul 

72 


FOR  HIS  SAKE  73 

were  favorites  with  all  of  them,  and  they  felt  dis- 
inclined to  say  things  aloud.  Now  and  then  one 
would  whisper  over  a  garden  wall.  In  that  way, 
the  substrata  of  common  knowledge  became  more 
or  less  infected  with  suspicions. 

Hermance  knew  such  would  be  the  case.  After 
deciding  in  those  first  days  that  she  would  not 
suffer  harm  to  come  to  the  child,  she  began  to  plan 
to  keep  him,  notwithstanding  the  possibility  that 
Raoul  might  have  different  views.  She  set  about 
devising  ways  and  means  to  remove  all  the  stain 
from  baby's  horizon.  If  she  might  succeed  to  a 
degree,  probably  Raoul  could  be  induced  to  be 
more  tolerant — and  little  Paul  might  be  allowed 
to  take  his  place  in  the  household!  At  least,  Her- 
mance was  honest  with  herself  in  the  end,  and 
admitted  that  this  result  was  exactly  what  she 
wanted — she  did  not  wish  to  send  the  baby  away! 

"Grand'mere,  tell  me  truly,  is  any  talk  about  in 
the  village?" 

Grand'mere  waited  a  minute  before  replying. 

"It  will  not  hurt  me,  Grand'mere.  If  it  is  true, 
tell  me  now.  I've  been  cautious  all  along,  but  I 
cannot  keep  the  villagers  from  thinking." 

"Ma  chere,  I  think  it  would  have  been  better  to 
have  told  the  neighbors  at  the  start  about  the  crime 
of  the  German.  They  are  your  friends,  and  since 
you  are  innocent  of  wrong,  they  would  have  held 
you  blameless." 

"Yes,  yes,  Grand'mere,  but  I  couldn't  bear  having 


74  THE   INVADER'S   SON 

myself  made  the  subject  of  such  gossip,  and  since 
Paul  has  come  I  am  glad  I  kept  it  to  myself.  If 
I  can  only  lessen  or  destroy  curiosity,  it  will  be  so 
much  easier  for  the  child  in  growing  up — if  Raoul 
consents  for  me  to  bring  him  up  as  our  son." 

"Is  it  your  wish,  Hermance?"  asked  Grand' mere 
in  surprise,  although  she  had  sometimes  thought 
the  young  mother  would  find  some  way  of  clinging 
to  the  beautiful  boy  baby. 

"Yes.  There's  no  need  of  my  concealing  the  fact 
from  you,  Grand'mere.  I  know  you  loathe  Ger- 
mans, and  certainly  I  do — my  dislike  is  past  the 
maximum  of  hate.  And  why  should  I  not  hate! 
How  I  have  slaved  in  my  heart  and  mind  to  cover 
up  the  terrible  deed — and  look  at  my  mother!  She 
is  half  demented.  But,  Grand' mere,  little  Paul  is 
mine !  He  shall  be  of  me  and  my  blood.  He  shall 
be  a  Frenchman  and  love  only  France !" 

"Then  see  you  to  any  gossip,  my  child.  Go  at 
once  and  advise  with  Dr.  Joumonville.  If  anyone 
can  turn  a  dangerous  corner,  Dr.  Joumonville  can." 

Therefore,  as  soon  as  she  could,  Hermance  pre- 
sented herself  at  Dr.  Joumonville's  study,  and  stated 
to  him  her  wishes  and  fears.  The  old  doctor  made 
frequent  requisitions  upon  his  snuffbox,  and  waited 
somewhat  patiently  until  the  young  woman  had  said 
all  she  wanted  to  say.  In  fact,  he  waited  so  long 
to  speak  after  she  had  finished,  that  she  was  afraid 
he  disapproved  of  her  liberal  views. 

"Yes,   Madame  Beauvais,  it  is  true  that  some 


FOR  HIS  SAKE  75 

questions  are  being  asked.  Father  Pelletier  and  my- 
self are,  naturally,  exempt  from  divulging  what  we 
know,  but  I  have  taken  the  liberty  of  smoothing 
the  way." 

Hermance  flushed. 

Dr.  Joumonville  dipped  into  his  snuffbox  again, 
and  appeared  unwilling  to  discuss  the  subject 
further. 

''And  what  have  you  said,  Dr.  Joumonville?" 

With  characteristic  bluntness,  he  wheeled  upon 
Hermance,  almost  frightening  her  by  his  manner, 
and  said: 

"Did  you  not  go  to  Catillon  and  Avesnes  immedi- 
ately following  your  wedding  for  a  visit  ?  And  you 
could  have  visited  your  husband  at  the  front! — 
other  women  did." 

"Yes — the  visits  to  Catillon  and  Avesnes, — but 
j » 

"Sacre!  how  do  I  know  you  didn't?  The  devil! 
You  come  to  me  for  advice,  and  now  you  want  to 
start  to  argue !"  There  was  just  the  hint  of  a  merry 
twinkle  in  the  tail  of  his  small,  blinking  eyes. 

"And  you've  lied  for  me?"  Hermance  began  to 
laugh. 

"Yes,  I  have,  and  I  resent  being  catechized.  You 
asked  me  at  the  beginning  to  keep  your  secret. 
Well!  Do  you  suppose  people  will  cease  to  think, 
simply  because  you  make  up  your  mind  to  cover  up 
something?  People  must  have  some  antidote — a 
sop  to  go  on  with.  If  you  do  not  supply  it,  rumor 
makes  the  substitute." 


76  THE   INVADER'S   SON 

"But,  Grand' mere — what  is  she  saying?" — asked 
Hermance. 

Dr.  Joumonville  poked  at  his  dog  to  stop  the  lazy 
animal's  fierce  dream-fight. 

"Ask  her,"  commanded  the  doctor.  "I  have  seen 
her  during  the  last  few  days." 

Hermance  seemed  a  little  doubtful  about  the 
doctor's  method  of  killing  rumor,  and  sat  dubiously 
turning  up  all  the  corners  of  the  tale  in  her  mind. 
She  had  spent  two  weeks  and  a  little  over  with  her 
friends  in  the  upper  country.  How  much  of  this 
trip  had  she  recounted  to  the  villagers? 

Dr.  Joumonville  frowned,  and  sent  her  away  with 
the  following  comments : — 

"You  go  on  about  your  business.  Bridle  the 
tongue  of  your  mother.  A  question  now  and  again 
will  be  asked,  but  who  the  devil  can  dispute  the 
family  doctor,  the  mother,  and  the  sage-femme! 
Man  enfant,  vous  etes  naive!" 

Hermance  want  away  more  or  less  satisfied.  She 
condoled  the  deception,  saying:  "It  is  for  Paul's 
sake." 

There  was  yet  the  difficulty  of  dealing  with  Ma- 
dame Morestier.  It  leaked  out  that  she  had  tried  to 
drown  the  baby  in  an  old  fountain  at  the  rear  of  the 
chateau — and  she  had  actually  made  the  attempt. 
The  crime  was  only  prevented  by  a  laborer,  who 
chanced  to  pass  that  way  at  a  critical  moment.  For  a 
time  the  incident  gave  color  to  some  more  surmis- 
ings  but  the  old  doctor  said  that  Madame  was  crazy, 


FOR  HIS  SAKE  77 

and  was  likely  to  say  and  do  anything.  He  also 
threatened  the  few  who  dared  ask  why,  with  punish- 
ment when  Raoul  should  return.  That  had  the 
desired  effect. 

Little  by  little,  byway  inuendoes  ceased.  The 
cruel  pinch  of  war  pressed  harder  week  after  week, 
and  everyone  had  trials  to  meet  without  troubling 
with  the  affairs  of  two  persons  who  enjoyed  the 
friendship  and  high  esteem  of  the  entire  community. 

For  baby  Paul's  sake,  also — that  he  might  be  out 
of  Madame  Morestier's  reach,  as  much  as  possible, 
Hermance  engaged  herself  to  labor  in  the  nearby 
fields.  Morning,  noon  and  night  she  passed  over 
the  high  bridge  and  along  the  village  streets  with 
Paul  in  her  arms.  Although  she  had  forgotten  the 
promise  of  Count  Von  Essenhendel,  to  see  that 
soldiers  did  not  molest  her,  it  was  a  fact  that  none 
of  the  thousands  of  Germans  who  came  and  stopped 
in  the  place  for  months,  so  much  as  drew  near  the 
Chateau  Morestier.  By  degrees  Hermance  lost  all 
fear  of  them,  and  went  about  her  work  quite  as  if 
they  were  not  always  present  in  large  numbers.  She 
put  off  until  that  day  of  Raoul's  homecoming  the 
scene  that  must  ensue,  and  lived  from  day  to  day. 
Good  cheer  and  bright  smiles  lit  up  her  face.  Dur- 
ing the  planting  season,  while  she  walked  across  the 
harrowed  plots,  scattering  the  seeds,  a  song  often 
gave  testimony  of  her  joyous  feelings.  The  elixir 
of  outdoor  life  made  her  grow  more  beautiful. 

And  as  she  toiled  in  the  crops,  or  tended  the 


78  THE   INVADER'S   SON 

vineyards,  she  watched  alertly  a  little  fat  baby  boy 
that  lay  huddled  on  an  old  quilt  in  the  shade  of  the 
flowering  hedge.  He  seldom  cried.  As  she  went 
to  him  at  regular  intervals,  she  sometimes  thought 
he  was  being  blessed  with  a  good  disposition  to  assist 
him  in  making  it  easier  for  people  to  love  him.  The 
balmy  spring  air  against  his  cheeks  painted  them 
pink.  The  blue  sky,  into  which  he  blinked  by  the 
hour,  lent  a  deeper  hue  to  his  eyes.  And  thus  it  was 
that  he  began  to  grow  in  stature. 


CHAPTER  VIII 
AFTER  BATTLES  END 

MEN  and  horses  finally  tired  of  war.  Correspond- 
ents exhausted  their  variations  of  battle  scenes  and 
horrors  left  in  the  wakes  of  retreating  armies. 
Statesmen  finished  with  moralizing  on  the  duties  of 
governments.  Editors  had  poured  out  more  and 
more  vituperations  until  a  sickening  nausea  over- 
came them.  Cries  of  enough  had  gone  up  from  Ger- 
many, and  when,  at  last,  she  had  surrendered  un- 
conditionally, it  was  found  that  the  great  military 
power  of  the  empire  had  collapsed  like  an  empty 
shell.  The  plain  people  throughout  Europe  threat- 
ened the  world  with  revolutions  which  promised  to 
deadlock  any  progress  towards  reconstruction  under 
the  new  regime.  Great  battles  had  been  won — most 
of  them  in  favor  of  the  Allies,  and  for  the  sake  of 
democracy.  The  saner  elements  in  all  nations  united 
to  quell  uprisings,  and  to  organize  for  the  future  of 
mankind.  Germany  stuck  to  her  own  versions,  and 
— strange  to  say,  even  Russian  authorities  differed 
in  their  accounts  of  what  happened. 

Anyway,  in  1918  the  end  came.  Plenipotentiaries 
from  the  countires  made  and  fixed  the  terms  of 
peace.  The  United  States  crowned  the  glories  she 
had  hitherto  won  in  coming  forward  to  the  rescue 
of  democracy  with  no  selfish  motives  in  view,  by 

79 


8o  THE  INVADER'S  SON 

sending  over  President  Wilson  to  the  Peace  Con- 
ference. There  was,  as  usual,  a  great  deal  of  grum- 
bling, and  even  threats  from  some  quarters  of 
Europe,  regarding  the  harsh  settlement  imposed 
upon  the  enemy.  But  after  striking  out  "the"  in 
the  first  paragraph,  and  putting  in  "to"  in  the  one 
hundred  and  twenty-seventh  line  of  the  sixty-first 
section,  the  United  States  and  the  Allies  felt  that 
they  had  made  all  the  concessions  justly  due  the 
enemy,  and  the  voluminous  document  of  peace  was 
signed.  It  was  hailed  with  the  ringing  of  bells  and 
the  firing  of  salutes — by  the  surviving  dread- 
noughts! The  limp  and  jaded  newspapers  revived 
and  printed  tall  headlines — even  the  London  Times 
entitled  one— "GLORIOUS  PEACE  HAS  COME 
TO  STAY."  The  American  President  visited,  and 
congratulated,  the  few  remaining  kings  and  queens, 
and  in  the  name  of  the  people  of  the  United  States, 
pledged  to  them  that  war  should  be  no  more;  that 
"peace  on  earth  and  good  will  towards  men"  would 
continue  throughout  the  universe. 

Map  engravers  began  to  etch  a  slight  change  in 
this  and  that  quarter — England  had  the  right  to  fly 
the  Union  Jack  on  such  and  such  an  island ;  France's 
permanent  boundary  was  extended  to  include  Alsace 
Lorraine,  and  a  few  square  miles  of  parts  of  Africa ; 
the  Fatherland,  much  humbled,  and  feeling  that  she 
had  been  abused  by  all  the  world,  was  allowed  to 
continue  as  a  place  of  refuge  set  apart  for  the  exile 
of  the  Huns. 


AFTER  BATTLES  END  81 

Armies  were  disbanded  and  soldiers  returned  to 
their  homes — many  crippled  for  life.  Millions  had 
died  during  the  four  and  a  half  years  of  fearful 
carnage.  England  alone  lost  in  killed  six  hundred 
and  fifty  thousand  of  her  young  men.  And  all  these 
lives  had  been  given  to  bring  about  the  infinitesimal 
alterations  in  maps,  and,  it  was  hoped,  that  greater 
safety  for  the  world  had  been  gained.  As  usual, 
the  magnificent,  honorable  services  of  generals 
called  forth  plaudits,  and  to  them,  of  course,  monu- 
ments must  be  erected  at  psychological  moments. 
The  leaders  had  been  brave  and  deserving  of  great 
credit,  and  not  one  of  them  would  have  consented 
before  or  after  the  war  to  the  slaughter  of  multi- 
plied hundreds  of  thousands  of  unnamed  heroes, 
that  the  glory  of  a  few  men  might  shine  above  the 
sordid  gloom  of  battle  fields.  But  such  is  the  way 
of  the  world.  These  men's  monuments,  the  monu- 
ments erected  on  the  sites  of  Mons,  Charleroi,  Liege, 
Namur,  Ypres,  the  Marne,  and  other  places,  may 
at  some  future  day  trick  the  populace  into  believing 
that  war  is  a  heroic  pageant  of  brave,  superior  men. 

But  soon  the  world  began  to  move  on  much  as 
before,  even  while  the  deafening  roar  of  the  last 
cannon  still  echoed  from  crag  to  crag  in  the  Alps. 
Sore  heads  and  aching  hearts  began  to  get  well  on 
the  homeward  journey.  War  had  come  like  the 
explosion  of  a  nitro-glycerine  factory;  peace  came 
like  the  unfolding  of  a  rose  overnight.  Hatred 
reached  white  heat  after  the  battles  of  Liege  and 


82  THE   INVADERS'   SON 

Namur ;  friendship  sprang  up  with  the  mingling  of 
discharged  soldiers,  as  they  returned  to  native 
lands. 

Of  those  who  went  to  war  from  Ste.  Genevieve, 
only  two  were  alive  and  able  to  return.  One  was 
Dr.  Anson  Joumonville,  prominent  among  army  sur- 
geons; the  other  was  Raoul  Beauvais,  scarred  in 
battle  and  honored  for  his  bravery.  These  two 
friends  resigned  from  the  army,  after  peace,  and 
prepared  to  enter  private  life. 

The  hardships  of  war  had  rounded  them  out  into 
robust  men  physically  and  mentally.  Both  were  yet 
under  thirty  years  of  age,  and  the  bloom  and  fire  of 
youth  still  lit  up  their  bronzed  faces.  They  were 
ambitious  men  of  action,  but  had  not  forgotten  how 
to  smile  with  the  throngs  and  be  gay  with  their 
fellow  men. 

"Raoul,"  said  the  doctor,  as  he  motioned  for  a 
dapper  waiter,  in  the  Cafe  de  la  Pai.v,  Paris,  "of 
course,  we  shall  start  for  Ste.  Genevieve  in  the 
morning." 

A  shadow  crossed  Raoul's  face,  and  he  poured 
some  water  into  a  glass  from  a  decanter  that  had 
been  placed  on  the  table  while  they  were  speaking. 
Dr.  Jumonville  did  not  understand  the  change  in  his 
companion  and  continued : 

"You  know  I  have  not  been  back  since  we  left 
on  your  wedding  day.  I  have  had  very  few  letters 
from  my  father — that  territory  was  occupied  by  the 
enemy  so  long." 


AFTER  BATTLES  END  83 

Beauvais  made  no  comment.  If  anything  he 
looked  disturbed  and  even  disinterested. 

"Are  you  not  going,  Raoul  ?"  asked  Dr.  Joumon- 
ville,  turning  abruptly  upon  his  friend. 

"No." 

An  awkward  silence  followed. 

"What's  the  matter?  What's  happened?"  The 
doctor  sat  up  very  straight  in  his  chair,  as  if  pre- 
paring to  argue  the  point.  "You  and  I  grew  up  to- 
gether ;  we  have  fought  together  and  won  our  places 
on  merit  alone — if  two  men  know  each  other  thor- 
oughly, we  certainly  do.  I  cannot  conceive  of  your 
declining  to  go  back  to  your  wife.  Have  you  an 
explanation?" 

"Anson,  I  prefer  not  to  discuss  the  matter." 

"But  that  will  not  do.  You  know  I  cannot  go  on 
this  way." 

"Perhaps  you  are  entitled  to  know  why  I  am  not 
going.  My  wife  has  forsaken  me  for  a  German 
soldier." 

The  doctor  sprang  to  his  feet.  "It  is  not  true!" 
he  exclaimed. 

"It  is  true.  I  have  seen  her — have  seen  their  child 
and  have  heard  the  villagers  discuss  them." 

"When?" 

"When  I  entered  Ste.  Genevieve  as  a  spy." 

"But,  Raoul,  there  is  some  mistake.  Such  a  thing 
cannot  be  true !  It  is  impossible !  It  is  inconceiv- 
able!" 

"Anson,  I  tell  you  it  is  true.  I  was  at  the  Chateau 


84  THE   INVADER'S  SON 

Morestier  and  talked  with  the  Madame.  She  said 
Hermance  was  fond  of  the  child." 

For  a  few  moments  neither  man  spoke.  People 
were  hurrying  to  and  fro  in  the  carpeted  cafe, 
waiters  taking  orders  and  disputing  with  guests. 
Idly  Dr.  Jumonville  ground  his  teeth  together  sav- 
agely, saying  as  if  addressing  himself : 

"How  could  a  French  woman,  of  Hermance's 
ancestry,  do  such  a  thing!" 

"I  am  only  telling  what  I  saw  and  was  told.  There 
is  no  chance  for  me  to  have  made  a  mistake — my 
own  eyes,  my  own  ears." 

"What  are  you  going  to  do,  Raoul?" 

The  soldier  was  staring  out  across  the  street  and 
waited  long  before  he  replied : 

"Well,  you  know  the  French  government  made 
me  a  present  yesterday  of  a  few  thousand  francs 
in  recognition  of  my  services.  I  am  going  to  Cana- 
da and  the  United  States  for  a  few  years — probably 
I  shall  then  return  to  Paris.  In  fact  I  have  engaged 
with  a  house  here  for  an  agency  in  America.  I 
cannot  go  again  to  Ste.  Genevieve.  No!  No!  It 
may  be  in  five — ten  years  I  can  make  up  my  mind 
to  go.  Doctor,  in  that  last  assault  all  of  the  remain- 
ing boys  were  killed.  You  and  I  alone  remain  to 
return  to  our  village  as  representatives  of  the  band 
of  strong  men  who  went  out  to  fight  for  the  better- 
ment of  the  world.  But  if  I  return  to  Paris  and 
never  go  to  Ste.  Genevieve,  you  will,  of  course,  visit 
me — to  save  me  pain." 


AFTER  BATTLES  END  85 

"When  do  you  go?" 

"To-morrow.  I  hope  it  can  be  arranged  so  soon. 
My  friend,  Henri  Galarre  of  La  Maison  Galarre, 
thinks  it  can  be  by  ten  o'clock  to-morrow. 

"And  this  is  why  you  have  been  so  silent  during 
the  few  times  I've  seen  you  since  we  have  been  in 
the  army?" 

Raoul  merely  bowed  his  head.  He  knew  this  con- 
versation was  sure  to  come  sooner  or  later,  but  it 
had,  nevertheless,  taken  away  his  appetite  and  he 
refused  to  order.  He  sat  stopped  over,  smoking  vio- 
lently, while  his  friend  ate  a  light  lunch. 

"Mais,  mon  ami,  je  sais  que  cela  est  vrai!"  said 
Beauvais  firmly.  "C'est  fini !" 

The  following  morning  the  friends  parted; — Dr. 
Joumonville  to  go  to  Ste.  Genevieve ;  Raoul  Beauvais 
to  go  to  Cherbourg  to  take  ship  for  New  York. 

Also,  after  the  battles  had  ended,  Count  von 
Essenhendel  went  on  his  way  to  pass  through  Ste. 
Genevieve.  His  repentance  had  been  sincere,  and 
he  wished  to  make  inquiries  concerning  Madame 
Beauvais  and  her  husband.  Without  much  diffi- 
culty, he  obtained  all  the  information  he  desired 
from  a  talkative  servant  at  the  cafe  and  inn.  "Ma- 
dame Beauvais  has  a  baby — some  say  one  thing  and 
some  say  another;"  and  in  reply  to  a  question,  "No, 
Monsieur  Beauvais  has  not  been  back  since  the 
wedding  day — he  went  from  the  church  to  the 
station."  And  so  on,  until  the  Count  was  in  pos- 
session of  every  detail — more  than  sufficient  to  con- 


86  THE   INVADER'S  SON 

vince  him  that  his  sin  had  cast  the  shadow  of  an 
unwelcome  life  into  the  home  of  the  young  French 
couple.  Raoul  Beauvais  was  still  away,  and  no  one 
knew  in  Ste.  Genevieve  whether  or  not  he  had  sur- 
vived the  battles  and  hardships  of  war.  What 
would  he  say  when  he  returned  and  found  the  little 
undesirable  in  his  home — the  first  born? 

With  a  heavy  heart,  the  brave  German  com- 
mander hastened  out  of  the  village  and  then  on  to 
his  castle  on  the  Rhine  He  pondered  in  his  mind 
how  he  would  repair  the  damage  he  had  wrought. 
When  about  half  way  home,  he  turned  about  to  go 
back  to  Ste.  Genevieve,  to  confess  his  wrong  to  the 
injured  husband,  and  beg  for  the  child.  He  felt 
sure  that  Beauvais  would  not  want  him,  and  his 
own  flesh  and  blood  would  probably  be  consigned 
to  a  life  of  reproach  in  France.  Then  he  thought 
of  his  proud  family,  dating  from  A.  D.  1200,— of 
his  mother  and  sisters,  and  more  particularly  of  his 
fiancee!  No;  that  would  never  do!  He  must  find 
some  way  of  making  recompense — of  aiding  the 
Beauvais  couple,  for  they  were  very  poor.  Raoul 
Beauvais  won  his  lifelong  respect  that  night  in  the 
trenches,  during  the  Battle  of  the  Rivers,  and  for 
Madame  Beauvais  he  had  great  regard — the  shame 
that  he  had  dared  to  trample  under  foot  so  rare  a 
flower  of  womanhood!  Yes;  he  would  aid  them 
without  their  knowing  the  source.  And  he  faced 
homeward  again,  relieved  somewhat  in  conscience, 
since  making  the  resolve  to  help.  At  once,  he  set 


r  AFTER  BATTLES  END  87 

his  practical  Teutonic  mind  to  work  on  some  plan 
that  would  be  feasible  and  acceptable  to  the  inde- 
pendent spirit  of  the  Frenchman — for  any  help 
offered  must  be  indirect  and  appear  to  have  been 
earned,  and  not  received  as  a  gift. 

Dr.  Anson  Joumonville  preferred  to  surprise  his 
father  by  returning  home  unannounced.  Accord- 
ingly, he  arrived  in  Ste.  Genevieve  in  the  afternoon 
of  the  same  day  he  had  left  his  friend  Beauvais, 
and  walked  rapidly  along  the  familiar  streets  to  his 
house.  Many  did  not  notice  him  pass.  At  last  the 
children  recognized  him,  and  the  news  spread  from 
house  to  house,  "Dr.  Anson  Joumonville  has  come 
home !"  They  did  not  permit  him  to  go  all  the  way 
to  his  father  alone.  Old  and  young  congregated 
in  the  square  and  lined  the  sidewalks,  shouting  wel- 
come and  asking  questions.  Every  woman  was  as 
proud  of  him  as  she  would  have  been  of  her  own 
son — happy  tears  were  shed  over  him;  and,  alas! 
his  answers  with  reference  to  how  Francois  died — 
and  Jean — and  Rene — and  Louis!  brought  forth 
many  a  despairing  scream  from  mother  and  wife. 

Only  he  and  Raoul  Beauvais  survived,  he  told 
them  briefly — and  where  was  Raoul?  Hermance 
herself  asked  the  question,  elbowing  through  the 
crowd  and  standing  squarely  before  the  young 
doctor  now  grown  massive  and  strong.  The  child 
Paul  held  back  in  her  arms,  clinging  to  her  shoulder 
for  protection,  but  looking  at  the  stranger  out  of  his 
bright,  frank  eyes.  Hermance's  pleading  inquiry 


88  THE   INVADER'S  SON 

must  be  met — he  perceived  that  Raoul  was  mis- 
taken. The  child  was  there,  but  there  must  be  an 
explanation.  Hermance  could  never  be  guilty  and 
come  inquiring  about  her  husband  thus. 

"Your  husband,  Madame  Beauvais — "  Dr. 
Joumonville  addressed  her  so,  and  searched  her  face 
to  see  if  it  changed,  "was  with  me  to-day.  He  lives. 
I  left  him  in  Paris.  He  will  come  a  little  later." 

Cheers  and  shouts  awoke  the  echoes  of  the  hills, 
and  the  procession  moved  on  to  the  old  doctor's 
door.  He  had  heard  the  rejoicings  of  the  villagers, 
and  came  swinging  himself  on  his  crutches,  ever 
and  anon  pausing  to  shade  his  eyes  with  his  hand 
to  see  what  veteran  had  come  home.  He  knew  the 
familiar  scene,  for  had  he  not  gone  through  with  it 
in  1870?  The  soldiers  were  coming  home — would 
that  it  were  his  son  Anson!  Ah!  was  the  broad- 
shouldered  man  who  moved  easily  in  the  midst  of 
the  crowd  Raoul  Beauvais?  He  came  out  of  the 
gate  as  they  stopped  in  front  of  his  door,  and  before 
the  old  fellow  could  realize  what  was  going  on, 
Anson  lifted  him  clear  off  the  cobble  stones,  saying: 
"Father,  I  am  home.  I've  come  to  relieve  you  of 
ministering  to  the  ills  of  Ste.  Genevieve !"  Holding 
the  old  soldier  of  the  first  Prussian  war  well  up  with 
his  right  arm,  as  he  would  have  held  a  small  boy, 
Dr.  Anson  Joumonville  gripped  the  crutches  with  his 
left,  waved  them  to  the  happy  villagers  and  went 
within  to  be  alone  with  the  man  he  revered  above 
all  others. 


AFTER  BATTLES  END  89 

"Then  Radii's  belief  is  all  wrong,  Father?" 
"It  is.     You  are  now  the  fourth,  besides  Her- 
mance,  to  know  the  truth." 

The  above  was  the  closing  of  old  Dr.  Joumon- 
ville's  explanation,  fifteen  minutes  after  his  son 
entered  the  study. 

Anson  seized  his  hat  and  dashed  out  of  the  house, 
leaving  his  father  to  wonder  what  urgent  errand 
had  called  for  such  haste.  The  people  without  saw 
the  returned  hero  running  to  the  telegraph  office, 
and  waited  in  the  street  to  learn  the  cause. 

Two  telegrams  were  sent — one  to  M.  Heri  Gal- 
arre,  Paris,  urging  him  to  stop  Raoul  Beauvais 
from  sailing;  the  other  to  Raoul,  care  of  the  steam- 
ship company,  reading: 

"Do  not  leave  France.  I  am  coming  to 
Cherbourg  to-night.  There  is  a  great  mis- 
take. Hermance  is  still  here,  and  as  true 
as  any  woman  in  the  Republic. 

"Anson  Joumonville." 


CHAPTER  IX 

RESTORING     HIS    DREAMLAND 

BEFORE  the  great  war  burst  upon  the  world,  to 
drag  its  hideousness  into  the  light  of  what  had  been 
considered  an  advanced  civilization,  Raoul  Beau- 
vais  had  dreamed  of  his  future  life  with  Hermance 
as  an  existence  in  a  fairy  Garden  of  Eden,  wherein 
would  be  no  forbidden  fruits — no  sin,  no  sorrow ; — 
the  dream  of  every  other  couple  since  the  creation. 
His  bringing  up  had  been  simple;  his  education 
wholesome ;  his  joys  genuine  with  his  friends  in  Ste. 
Genevieve.  And  after  that,  during  the  great  war, 
when  he  came  into  contact  with  men  from  every 
corner  of  the  earth,  his  vision  had  broadened  and 
he  believed  himself  able  to  appreciate  the  meanings 
of  things  that  count  in  the  hurry-skurry  of  the 
struggle  for  existence.  And  but  for  the  blight  he 
had  discovered  while  on  his  trip  as  a  spy,  the  home- 
coming after  battles  ended,  might  have  been  the 
climax  of  happiness.  Hermance  would  then  have 
been  the  queen  in  his  Dreamland,  and  he  the  light- 
hearted  strong  lover. 

But  all  had  been  changed  when  he  saw  Hermance 
on  her  way  to  the  fields  carrying  the  child  that  had 
somehow  come  between  him  and  all  that  was  worth 
while  in  his  future.  When  Dr.  Joumonville  left 
him  in  Paris,  the  blackness  of  his  disappointment 

90 


RESTORING  HIS  DREAMLAND        91 

gathered  more  closely  about  him  than  ever,  and  he 
set  his  face  towards  America,  hoping  that  there  he 
might  find  a  respite  from  the  pain  that  caused  him 
so  much  suffering.  In  anguish  he  said  again  and 
again  to  himself,  "An  enemy  has  done  this!  A  thief 
has  sown  tares  in  my  field  of  happiness  and  robbed 
me  of  my  treasure.  While  I  was  away  fighting  for 
the  honor  of  home  and  country,  unfaithfulness  de- 
stroyed all  that  enriched  my  heart." 

Thus  murmuring  to  himself  against  the  ruthless- 
ness  of  fate,  Raoul  made  preparations  to  leave  the 
country  for  which  he  had  fought.  It  was  strange 
that  in  his  haste  to  get  away  from  the  shores  of 
Cherbourg,  he  never  realized  for  an  instant  Her- 
mance  had  also  been  fighting  and  suffering  for 
France.  Man-like,  he  could  only  think  of  his  own 
disappointments,  and  the  massive  frame  of  young 
strength  that  God  had  given  him,  slouched  under 
the  weight  of  sorrow.  Immediately  after  laying 
aside  the  duties  of  military  life  that  stirred  and 
buoyed  him  to  action,  the  fires  of  enthusiasm  cooled 
into  lifeless  ashes,  and  with  a  few  old  bags  and  a 
battered  trunk,  he  moved  away  aimlessly  in  an 
endeavor  to  run  away  from  trouble. 

Meanwhile,  Dr.  Anson  Joumonville  was  hurrying 
to  him  from  Ste.  Genevieve,  bearing  a  message  of 
truth  and  giving  him  an  opportunity  to  prove  his 
character. 

And  back  at  the  railway  station  in  Ste.  Genevieve 
on  the  following  da}',  the  remnant  of  a  once  joyous 


92  THE   INVADER'S  SON 

populace  had  gathered  to  wait  with  banners  and 
music.  Word  had  been  passed  along  that  Raoul 
Beauvais  would  arrive  in  half  an  hour. 

Raoul's  achievements  while  in  the  service  of  his 
country,  had  been  given  more  than  a  faithful  de- 
scription to  his  friends  in  the  village.  With  a  pur- 
pose in  mind,  Dr.  Anson  Joumonville  had  praised 
his  comrade  in  arms  that  the  latter's  home-coming 
might  be  a  bright  spot  in  his  memory.  These  ac- 
counts— Raoul's  reward  for  bravery  in  the  trenches, 
his  trip  as  a  spy,  and  his  leading  the  charge  that 
had  won  him  distinction  and  decorations — were 
given  in  a  speech  delivered  in  the  quaint  public 
square.  Anson' s  father  had  done  this,  and  carried 
out  the  arrangements  agreed  upon  with  his  son.  In 
fact,  while  Anson  was  hurrying  to  Paris,  the  old 
doctor  stamped  about  the  crooked  streets  talking  to 
everybody  and  organizing  for  the  welcome  to  the 
master  of  Chateau  Morestier.  This  emphasis  on 
the  accomplishments  of  one  of  their  fellow  citizens, 
caused  the  people  to  have  an  opinion  of  themselves, 
and  they  forthwith  prepared  to  do  something 
beyond  the  ordinary  for  Ste.  Genevieve  in  their 
demonstrations  over  the  man  who  had  fought 
through  the  war  and  brought  honor  upon 
the  wayside  village  in  Picardy.  Hence,  they  were 
assembled,  clad  in  their  best  attire,  with  never  a 
thought  of  the  sufferings  they  had  endured  through- 
out the  years  of  deprivation.  The  one  thought  was 
uppermost — Raoul  Beauvais  would  soon  be  home 


RESTORING  HIS  DREAMLAND        93 

with  his  family — the  fair  Hermance,  and  his  little 
son !  Nothing  less  than  the  best  ovation  which  they 
could  extend  would  suffice  for  such  an  occasion. 
And  so  it  was  that  a  short  while  before  the  train 
came,  the  village  populace  and  the  peasants  for 
miles  around,  waited  for  his  coming. 

The  war  had  ended  in  November.  Already  the 
murky  skies  of  Picardy  and  Champagne  were 
hovering  low  over  the  trampled  and  torn  hills  that 
overlooked  the  Oise.  Soissons  and  neighboring 
towns  had  scarcely  ceased  to  shudder  at  the  ex- 
plosion of  shells;  the  bruised  and  mangled  forests 
seemed  doubtful  that  the  onslaught  of  destructive 
steel  had  passed  forever,  and  the  brown  valleys  and 
quiet  brooks  were  toneless  in  the  gray  of  approach- 
ing winter.  Nevertheless,  the  happy  spirits  of  the 
handful  of  French  people  had  revived  quickly.  Ex- 
citement was  in  the  air.  The  cluster  of  eager  folk 
about  the  station  splashed  the  dejected  landscape 
with  bright  colors.  Genuine  gaiety  relieved  the 
heavy  sense  of  past  depression.  That  day  should 
be  one  memorable  in  the  history  of  the  village  that 
had  played  its  part  in  holding  back  the  onrush  of 
the  Huns  in  the  mad  attempt  to  destroy  the  Re- 
public. 

Hermance  was  seated  on  a  float  draped  with  the 
tricolors.  The  heavy  vehicle  had  been  requisitioned 
from  the  street  department,  and  after  undergoing 
certain  alterations,  three  pairs  of  humble  dray  horses 
had  been  pressed  into  service  to  drag  it  through 


94  THE  INVADER'S  SON 

the  narrow  lanes  of  Ste.  Genevieve.  The  young 
woman  was  as  fresh  and  beautiful  as  on  that  day  in 
July,  1914,  when  she  mounted  to  the  top  of  the 
Chateau  Morestier  and  beheld  the  battalions  of 
France  moving  swiftly  to  the  attack.  Her  cheeks 
were  flushed  and  her  eyes  were  bright  with  expec- 
tation. As  the  great  horses  jogged  along  she  looked 
about  at  her  humble  friends  and  even  protested 
against  being  elevated  in  their  midst.  All  the  show 
and  ceremony  was  not  of  her  choosing — old  Dr. 
Joumonville  had  dictated  the  details  of  what  he  chose 
to  call  "Raoul's  Triumphant  Entry."  Father  Pelle- 
tier  also  said  it  would  be  a  good  thing.  He  insisted 
that  the  children  of  the  village  should  have  an  ex- 
ample of  how  France  bestows  honors  upon  one  of 
her  humble  heroes.  The  good  priest  joined  in  the 
holiday  of  rejoicing  and  even  consented  to  deliver 
the  address  of  welcome. 

Dr.  Anson  Joumonville  should  have  been  an  equal 
recipient  of  these  local  honors,  but  quickly  he  had 
arrived  at  a  decision  with  his  father  that  he  would 
step  aside  that  Raoul  alone  might  be  recognized. 
This,  in  their  opinion,  would  enable  them  to  accom- 
plish more  with  Raoul  by  overwhelming  him  with 
the  acclamations  of  his  fellow  men.  Indeed  in  the 
brief  time  that  elapsed,  the  cabal  of  those  who 
knew  the  story  of  Hermance,  seized  upon  the 
choice  of  a  public  event  to  eradicate  from  the 
minds  of  a  few  suspicious  persons  the  last  doubt 
regarding  little  Paul.  And  it  was  because  this  had 


RESTORING  HIS  DREAMLAND        95 

been  made  clear  to  Hermance  that  she  continued 
riding  on  the  float  when  she  much  preferred  to 
have  gone  to  the  station  as  any  other  French 
woman  might  have  done. 

The  old  doctor  was  almost  cunning  in  his  man- 
oeuvers  to  assist  in  clearing  the  right  of  way  for 
the  young  couple.  Enroute  through  the  same 
street,  that  wound  languidly  past  St.  Joseph's, 
where  on  the  morning  when  France's  mobilized 
troops  were  rushing  through  Ste.  Genevieve  to 
meet  the  Germans,  Hermance  and  Raoul  had  made 
their  vows,  this  frail  man,  who  next  to  Father 
Pelletier  delighted  in  leading  the  simple  people, 
continued  to  encourage  Hermance  to  expect  the 
reconciliation  with  her  husband.  The  aged  doctor 
was  trembling  with  excitement  and  flourished  his 
crutches  unnecessarily,  as  ever  and  anon  he  in- 
sisted that  the  trick  they  were  playing  on  Raoul 
was  as  much  for  the  young  man's  good  as  for 
Hermance's  sake,  and  above  all,  he  repeated  their 
efforts  would  not  fail.  He  told  the  young  wife 
how  Anson  would  prepare  Raoul  for  the  meeting 
while  they  were  yet  underway  on  the  train.  Hence 
she  continued  to  sit  on  the  float,  anxious,  under 
strain  of  possibilities  which  might  overwhelm 
her.  Despite  the  quietings  of  the  old,  crippled 
doctor  she  could  not  avoid  thinking — constructing 
the  scene  as  it  might  take  place.  Her  mind  flitted 
away  to  meet  the  oncoming  train,  and  tried  to  vis- 
ualize to  herself  the  man  she  loved  and  the  effect 


96  THE  INVADER'S  SON 

his  real  feelings  were  producing  upon  his  counte- 
nance. Would  he  ever  be  the  same  Raoul?  Would 
he  break  her  heart  by  receiving  her  coldly? — or 
would  he  come  smiling  as  in  the  days  when  they 
roamed  over  the  heights  along  the  Oise  and  listened 
in  the  evening  to  the  song  of  soaring  larks?  Would 
he  refuse  to  acknowledge  the  little  boy  who  sat  on 
the  stoop  at  her  feet  innocently  elated  with  the 
gaiety  of  the  peasants  on  the  way?  Would  Raoul 
come  again  as  he  had  gone,  whispering  bits  of 
love  sweets  and  pouring  out  floods  of  joyous  ex- 
uberance that  seemed  so  natural  to  him  in  the 
former  days? — or  would  his  brow  be  blackened 
with  frowns  of  hate  which  even  his  memory  of 
love  for  her  could  not  soften? 

Somehow  she  dared  to  believe  that  the  man  who 
had  lived  among  the  humble  people  of  Ste.  Gen- 
evieve,  and  had  vowed  his  devotions  to  her,  would 
come  again  in  the  blithesomeness  of  his  young 
manhood  to  receive  her  as  his  lawful  wife.  This 
man  had  gone  forth  to  battle  thai  France  might 
survive  the  brutality  of  autocratic  Germany,  and 
something  told  her  she  might  expect  of  him  recog- 
nition that  she  had  done  her  duty  and  suffered 
with  others,  while  the  change  in  the  world  was 
taking  place.  He  had  triumphed  over  the  invader 
— she  had  been  crushed  by  the  same  enemy; — he 
had  won  fame  in  victory;  would  she  win  only 
scorn?  Her  sense  of  justice  told  her  she  had  no 
right  to  doubt;  but  intuition  told  her  it  was  dim"- 


RESTORING  HIS  DREAMLAND       97 

cult  for  a  man  to  understand  a  woman's  point  of 
view.  She  was  proud  that  he  had  been  rewarded 
by  the  Republic  for  his  bravery ;  would  he  be  proud 
of  her  for  having  suffered  in  silence  and  performed 
her  duties  as  she  saw  them? 

Then  she  reasoned  with  herself,  and  examined 
her  sufferings  as  part  of  the  requisitions  for  the 
good  of  her  country.  Had  she  not  risen  bravely 
from  her  defeat  steadfast  to  the  end!  She  had 
triumphed  and  held  her  ground  as  certainly  as 
had  any  soldier  or  general  in  the  Allied  ranks.  Yet 
so  precarious  was  the  situation  that  a  smile  from 
Raoul  would  make  the  world  anew  for  her;  a 
frown  would  crush  her  more  than  had  the  horrors 
of  the  invasion. 

On  the  homeward-bound  train,  Dr.  Anson  Joum- 
onville  began  cautiously  to  prepare  Raoul  for  the 
information  which  he  must  impart  before  their 
arrival.  He  had  begun  with  his  disspirited  compan- 
ion by  declaring  that  Hermance  was  faithful  and 
deserving  of  the  full  measure  of  his  love  which 
had  been  pledged  at  the  beginning  of  the  war.  He 
reserved  the  privilege  of  telling  Raoul  more  after 
they  had  been  awhile  on  the  way.  Raoul  came  with 
him  reluctantly,  although  the  doctor  could  detect 
the  springing  up  of  hope  in  the  man's  face.  After 
the  train  had  wormed  its  way  out  of  Paris,  and 
began  threading  through  the  fields  along  the 
countryside,  the  young  doctor  found  Raoul  be- 
coming restless  and  impatient.  He  said: 


98  THE   INVADER'S   SON 

''Raoul,  you  gained  recognition  for  the  part  you 
played  in  the  war; — you  refused  to  accept  com- 
missions, but  they  gave  you  a  number  of  decora- 
tions for  bravery,  and  you  are  going  to  be  met  at 
the  station  by  your  neighbors  who  will  proclaim 
you  a  hero.  You  are  reaping  your  reward." 

The  man  scarcely  trusting  himself  to  hope  that 
the  disappointment  which  had  brought  sorrow  to 
him  might  be  explained,  showed  that  he  cared  not 
for  honors  at  such  a  time,  and  turned  impatiently 
to  look  out  over  the  Seine. 

Anson  continued,  "You  are  reaping  your  re- 
ward! You  are  going  now  to  meet  Hermance, 
who  will  be  at  the  station  with  others  to  receive 
you  and  to  show  that  you  hold  a  place  in  their 
hearts  of  which  you  should  be  proud." 

Raoul  made  no  sign  that  he  heard,  and  never 
took  his  eyes  from  the  passing  landscape. 

Dr.  Joumonville  remained  silent  for  several  min- 
utes and  then  said  slowly :  "I  cannot  conceive  how 
it  would  be  possible  for  a  son  of  Ste.  Genevieve, 
who  had  merited  the  approval  of  his  officers  during 
this  war,  to  fail  to  recognize  the  part  played  by 
the  women  at  home." 

"What  do  you  mean?" 

"Raoul  Beauvais,  I  mean  that  you  are  not  a 
gentleman,  much  less  a  Frenchman,  if  you  refuse 
to  give  Hermance  credit  for  her  patient  services 
to  France,  and  to  hold  her  blameless  for  things 


RESTORING  HIS  DREAMLAND        99 

she  could  not  avoid!  I  know  you  will  be  the  man 
that  I  have  always  believed  you  to  be." 

"Who  has  said  that  I  will  not  do  my  duty?" 
Raoul  blurted  defiantly. 

"Nobody." 

"Then  what  is  all  this  about?  Tell  me  now. 
You  hurried  me  off  with  you  from  Paris,  merely 
giving  me  your  word  that  I  was  mistaken  about 
Hermance.  But  I  am  entitled  to  know  the  facts, 
and  insist  that  you  tell  me  or  I  will  get  off  the 
train  at  the  next  station." 

Dr.  Joumonville  sat  quietly  observing  the  man  he 
had  aroused,  and  waited  before  speaking.  Raoul 
flushed  and  stirred  uneasily  in  his  seat  by  the  win- 
dow, and  made  a  show  of  the  fine  spirit  that  had 
carried  him  forward  above  other  soldiers  in  his 
regiment. 

And  then  Anson  told  him  the  truth. 

The  last  of  the  story  was  hastened  because  the 
train  had  already  approached  the  outskirts  of  Ste. 
Gene  vie  ve.  Raoul  sat  with  bowed  head,  as  one  in 
a  trance,  but  seemed  really  trying  to  comprehend. 
Anson  brushed  the  soldier's  bright,  fresh  uniform 
and  made  sure  that  his  sword  hung  just  right, 
when  the  train  whistled  for  the  station. 

When  the  furor  of  cheering  had  subsided,  Beau- 
vais  stood  up  on  the  float,  near  Hermance,  and 
hesitated  as  if  uncertain  what  to  do.  Father  Pelle- 
tier,  in  the  name  of  the  people,  was  ready  to  wel- 
come him  back  to  Ste.  Genevieve.  But  above  the 


ioo  THE  INVADER'S  SON 

exigencies  of  such  an  occasion  the  reverend  Father 
held  uppermost  his  duty  as  the  pastor  of  souls, 
and  stood  eyeing  the  handsome  hero  as  if  com- 
manding him  by  silent  prayer  to  act  the  part  of  a 
brave  man. 

Raoul  met  his  wife  as  he  would  have  done  a 
week  after  the  beginning  of  the  war.  Then  the 
sea  of  faces  waited  for  the  response.  Hermance 
leaped  out  of  the  terrible  prison  that  had  held  her 
crushed  for  so  many  years  and  fulfilled  every  ex- 
pectation of  the  little  party  who  had  engineered 
this  reunion.  He  had  kissed  her  many  times  and 
said  things  aloud  just  as  though  no  one  were  pres- 
ent. Then  he  lifted  on  high  the  child  and  kissed 
him!  At  last  Hermance's  sustained  battle  was 
won! 

Then  Father  Pelletier  came  forward  and  began 
the  address  of  welcome  in  the  name  of  his  faithful 
parishoners.  The  people  listened  with  difficulty, 
because  the  more  human  thing  had  happened  and 
the  words  of  the  aged  priest  were  superfluous.  But, 
eventually,  the  fire  of  French  enthusiasm  swept 
the  audience,  and  they  entered  into  the  spirit  of 
the  welcome  being  extended.  Raoul  responded, 
and  in  concluding  he  became  the  splendid  man  of 
the  hour,  touching  the  simple  imagination  of  the 
old  people  who  had  known  him  from  childhood, 
until  he  felt  himself  one  of  them,  desiring  to  share 
their  pleasures  and  shoulder  his  part  of  their  re- 
sponsibilities. He  was  caught  up  in  the  whirl  of 


RESTORING  HIS  DREAMLAND      101 

his  own  feelings,  and  reached  for  little  Paul  again, 
and  holding  him  up  before  them  said  : 

"Look!  I  show  you  a  Frenchman,  my  son! — 
who  will  grow  up  to  fight  for  France  in  the  future. 
May  he  too  bring  renown  to  this  quaint  village, 
and  may  he  do  more  for  France  than  I  have  done!" 

Then  shouts  of  rejoicing  echoed  across  the 
valley,  and  the  procession  moved  forward  from 
the  station  to  the  old  church,  the  spire  of  which 
had  escaped  the  shells  of  the  invaders,  and  there 
they  gave  thanks  that  even  two  of  the  many  who 
had  gone  forth  to  battle  had  been  spared  them. 

And  later,  Raoul  went  with  Hermance  to  the 
Chateau  Morestier,  to  take  up  again  private  life 
under  the  new  regime. 

In  the  days  that  followed,  Raoul  and  Hermance 
strolled  along  over  the  heights  and  through  the 
forests,  as  in  times  gone  by,  and  builded  again  the 
vision  of  their  youth.  They  told  and  retold  inci- 
dents and  experiences  of  the  war  just  closed,  and 
over  the  one  deep  wound  drew  a  covering  of  love 
and  charity.  Paul  was  a  child  of  the  war  and 
must  be  brought  up  a  Frenchman,  and,  if  need  be, 
trained  to  turn  his  energies  and  talents  against  the 
foe. 

Then  husband,  wife,  and  child  went  to  Paris  for 
a  fortnight,  to  spend  their  holidays;  for  Christmas 
was  coming  on,  and,  since  it  was  Hermance's  first 
trip  to  the  great  city,  her  husband  wished  that  she 
might  behold  the  Capital  arousing  itself  to  take  on 


102  THE  INVADER'S  SON 

again  the  gaiety  that  had  made  it  famous  through- 
out the  world.  Her  lightness  of  heart  broke  all 
bounds  and  she  once  more  dreamed  of  things  she 
had  hoped  for  while  yet  struggling  with  the  main- 
tenance of  the  old  chateau.  She  met  the  men  of 
the  army  and  their  families.  She  visited  places  of 
interest  in  the  city,  and  drove  with  Raoul  through 
the  gilded  boulevards  and  the  parks,  that  are 
always  popular  even  in  winter. 

On  the  homeward  journey,  while  the  train  glided 
swiftly  over  the  plains,  and  through  the  glorious 
field  of  the  Battle  of  the  Rivers,  she  sat  with  her 
hand  in  Raoul's  and  said  for  perhaps  the  twentieth 
time:  "And  to  think  this  day  has  come  to  us!" 


CHAPTER  X 

PRACTICAL    REPENTANCE 

AFTER  returning  to  his  castle  on  the  Rhine,  Count 
Yon  Essenhandel  continued  to  think  of  Madame 
Beauvais — he  hoped  that  some  day  he  might  be 
able  to  make  material  recompense  for  his  wrong. 
He  also  hoped,  as  might  be  expected  of  the  Teu- 
tonic mind,  that  Raoul  Beauvais  had  been  killed, 
and  that  he  some  day  might  be  able  to  marry  Her- 
mance.  The  Count's  repentance  and  reflections 
were  in  fact  so  mixed  and  contrary  to  the  tenets 
of  civilization  as  known  among  the  Allies,  that  it 
was  difficult  at  times  for  him  to  analyze  his  own 
feelings.  He  had  resolved  to  make  reparation,  for 
there  was  something  that  caused  him  uneasiness 
and  wrought  hard  upon  his  guilty  conscience.  He 
could  never  be  entirely  free  from  the  torture  the 
memory  of  Hermance's  face  imposed  upon  him, 
and  in  some  inexplicable  way  the  friendship  tie  he 
had  made  with  the  French  soldier,  that  night  in 
the  trenches,  was  of  the  extraordinary  type  that  is 
burned  into  the  heart  by  the  close  meeting  of  two 
spirits  in  the  combat  of  death. 

All  these  things  worried  the  Count  day  and 
night.  Sometimes  he  was  quite  out  of  sorts  with 
himself,  saying  in  his  impatience :  "A  strong  man 
may  be  sorry,  but  this  is  damnation!"  Neverthe- 

10* 


104  THE   INVADER'S   SON 

less,  he  decided  to  act  while  under  the  spell,  and, 
naturally,  a  German  would  be  practical  in  evolving 
a  scheme  to  appease  even  the  clamors  occurring 
within  his  own  peculiar  being. 

Accordingly,  Count  Von  Eisenhendel  sent  to 
Paris  an  invitation  for  Jacob  Lederfrank,  a  Ger- 
man Hebrew  long  resident  in  France,  to  come  to 
the  Rhine  for  a  conference.  For  several  genera- 
tions, the  Von  Eisenhendels  had  dealt  with  the 
Lederfranks,  in  Paris.  The  young  Count  had 
many  times  depended  upon  the  elder  Lederfrank 
for  loans,  when  his  own  Teutonic  parents  refused 
to  supply  him  with  funds.  And  when  casting  about 
for  ways  and  means  of  carrying  into  execution  a 
laudable  resolution,  the  Count  remembered  his 
Jewish  friend's  son. 

"Of  course,"  said  the  Count,  on  beginning  the 
interview,  "I  shall  not  mention  the  matter  to  you  at 
all,  unless  you  can  vow  absolute  fidelity,  and  agree 
under  seal  to  remain  with  me  in  whatever  capacity 
or  business  we  choose,  so  long  as  I  may  require 
you." 

The  Lederfranks  had  become  impoverished  dur- 
ing the  war.  Some  of  the  older  Frenchmen  re- 
membered their  German  extraction,  and  through- 
out the  conflict  they  were  under  suspicion.  This 
had  been  carried  to  such  an  extent  that  the  family 
suffered  many  financial  losses;  therefore,  Jacob's 
answer  was  prompt,  and  in  agreement  with  the 
wishes  of  the  wealthy  German. 


PRACTICAL  REPENTANCE          105 

"I  am  prepared  to  enter  into  such  a  contract — 
even  for  life,  if  necessary.  It's  not  a  question  of 
what  I  do,  for  I  must  do  something,  and  if  results 
are  obtained,  then  I  please  myself  and  please  you. 
Whatever  you  tell  me  of  this  secret  to  which  you 
have  referred,  will  be  kept.  Your  name,  your  con- 
nection with  anything  I  do,  will  be  completely 
covered.  You  can  trust  a  son  of  Moses  for  that! 
They  may  be  shrewd,  and  labor  under  a  handicap 
of  eternal  prejudices,  but  fidelity  in  business  has 
always  been  one  of  the  race's  redeeming  virtues. 
You  may  now,  my  dear  Count,  unfold  to  me 
exactly  what  you  wish  me  to  do,  and  immediately 
we  shall  enter  into  the  writings." 

The  Count  admired  the  smooth,  clean-cut  Jew, 
who  could  easily  pass  as  a  polished  French  gentle- 
man. He  knew  that  Jacob  was  honest;  he  also 
knew  that  he  would  be  faithful.  The  Leder franks 
were  all  well  endowed  with  business  ability — as  is 
every  Jew, — and  that  he  would  be  just  the  man 
to  send  to  Ste.  Genevieve  to  work  out  some  com- 
mercial scheme  with  Raoul  Beauvais,  if  he  had  re- 
turned. Therefore,  the  opulent  German  told  all 
the  story,  and  outlined  the  future  policy  he  wished 
carried  out  to  a  successful  issue. 

"I  have  written  to  Paris  for  information  re- 
garding Beauvais,"  said  the  Count,  after  a 
moment's  silence.  "A  reply  should  be  here  any 
day." 

"You  take  risks,  my  dear  Count!" 


106  THE   INVADER'S   SON 

"Ah!  trust  me  for  my  own  cunning!  You  for- 
get, Jacob,  that  the  Germans  have  proven  them- 
selves master  spies." 

"Quite  so — to  their  injury." 

"We  shall  not  discuss  that  now." 

"I  beg  pardon.    I  meant  no  offense." 

The  Count  lit  a  fresh  cigar  and  rudely  strode 
back  and  forth  across  the  floor.  Lederfrank  had 
not  mentioned  knowing  something  also  about 
Beauvais.  Consequently,  when  he  admitted  an  ac- 
quaintance with  the  popular  soldier — who  was  too 
proud  to  accept  a  commission  from  the  French 
Government  during  the  war — the  pompous  Ger- 
man whirled  in  his  tracks  and  eyed  the  visitor.  His 
Teutonic  mind  resented  criticism. 

"Yes,  I  know  this  man,  Beauvais.  Clever! 
There  have  come  to  me  details  of  the  career  of  this 
soldier  and  of  the  promotion  justly  due  him.  I 
assure  you,  Count,  he's  no  ordinary  man!" 

"To  that  I  agree.  I  tried  to  kill  him  in  the 
Battle  of  the  Rivers,  and  he  tried  to  kill  me.  We 
were  evenly  matched !  Ah,  but  my  dear  Jacob,  we 
shall  see  German  superiority!  I  am  determined 
if  that  man  lives  to  outwit  him  in  business — for 
the  sake  of  my  son." 

Lederfrank,  as  if  ignoring  the  Count's  interrup- 
tion, proceeded: 

"You  recall  what  the  Paris  papers  said  of  him 
just  after  the  retreat  from  the  Marne,  and  I  might 
add  now,  Count,  Beauvais  still  lives.  He  is  at 


PRACTICAL  REPENTANCE          107 

this  moment  in  Ste.  Genevieve  with  Madame  Beau- 
vais,  at  the  old  Chateau." 

'The  devil !  I  meant  to  have  married  that  woman 
myself." 

"Again,  my  dear  Count,  the  Frenchman  holds 
his  own  with  you." 

Then  continuing — "the  brief  interval  that  has 
elapsed  will  not  have  freed  his  mind  entirely  from 
his  recollection  of  you,  and,  I  can  assure  you, 
unless  you  handle  your  plans  with  the  greatest 
care,  Raoul  Beauvais  will  find  you  out  and  add 
another  dead  German  to  the  long  list  that  has  gone 
before." 

Completely  ignoring  Lederfrank's  comments, 
the  Count  whirled  upon  him,  his  face  reddening. 
"What  has  he  done  with  the  child?" 

"He  has  acknowledged  it  as  his  own,  and  the 
boy  is  being  brought  up  as  a  Frenchman." 

"Ach,  so!  he  will  pay.  I  will  make  him  yet  know 
a  German!" 

Lederfrank  still  did  not  seem  to  heed  the  Count, 
and  went  on  to  say:  "Beauvais  has  no  money, 
except  the  ten  thousand  francs  given  him  by  the 
Government.  I  believe  he  will  be  looking  about  for 
something  to  occupy  his  time  and  talents." 

"So!" 

"And  he  has  the  tumbled  down  Chateau,  which 
his  wife  will  insist  he  retain  since  it  is  a  relic  of 
the  Morestier  family." 

The  Count's  eyes  were  narrowing,  and  with  a 


io8  THE   INVADER'S  SON 

suddenness  that  almost  caused  Lederfrank  to 
jump,  he  asked:  "How  do  you  know  so  much 
about  Beauvais  and  his  affairs?" 

Lederfrank's  answer  was  even-toned.  "I  have 
been  in  Ste.  Genevieve  for  the  past  year  working 
on  a  prospect." 

"So!  and  what  may  that  be?" 

"Since  before  the  war  I  have  had  an  idea  that 
phosphate  could  be  found  in  that  vicinity  in  paying 
quantities." 

"Bosh !  you  waste  your  money !  There  is  nothing 
good  in  Northern  France — no  minerals  except  coal 
and  iron." 

"There's  a  lot  of  steel  scattered  about  now!" 

"Yes,  pieces  of  shells." 

"Be  that  as  it  may,  Count,  I've  spent  sufficient 
time  in  Ste.  Genevieve  and  up  and  down  the  Oise, 
to  know  much  of  Beauvais,  who,  I  tell  you,  is  the 
most  popular  citizen  in  the  division  of  which  Sois- 
sons  is  the  principal  city." 

"Oh,  well,  I  think  something  can  be  invented 
that  will  interest  this  Beauvais.  And  you  and  I, 
Lederfrank,  will  soon  find  out  his  qualifications  as 
a  business  man.  I  will  back  you  and  him  in  any 
enterprise  you  may  select.  Of  course  he  must  be 
given  to  understand  that  he's  only  dealing  with 
you — and  your  money." 

The  natural  Jewish  instinct  awoke  and  held  at 
attention.  "And  in  what  amount  would  you  be 
prepared  to  invest?" 


PRACTICAL  REPENTANCE          109 

"That  depends  upon  the  business.  Two  hundred 
thousand  marks — more  if  necessary." 

"And  control?"  asked  the  shrewd,  young 
Hebrew. 

"Ach,  mein  lieber  Gott!  Need  you  ask  that,  and 
you  a  Jew  ?  Why,  damme !  you  must  always  retain 
that.  You  must  also  dictate  the  business  policy, 
and  guide  everything.  Don't  be  crude  about  it — " 

"Like  the  Germans!" 

"Why  need  you  insult  me,  Jacob?" 

"Beg  your  pardon.     Proceed." 

The  Count  frowned,  but  continued:  "You 
must  also  be  clever  not  to  offend  this  Beauvais. 
Understand,  Jacob  Lederfrank,  I'll  spend  my 
entire  fortune,  or  triumph  over  that  Frenchman! 
And  isn't  it  subtle,  Jacob?  I  take  my  revenge — 
because  he  was  not  killed — at  the  same  time  I  give 
my  son  the  advantages  of  having  a  wealthy  father. 
Bah!" 

Lederfrank  looked  uncomfortable. 

"Another  thing,  Jake,  you  must  have  the  ex- 
clusive right  to  engage  all  employees.  See  to  this 
now.  Your  success  will  depend — my  ultimate  aim 
may  depend  upon  your  having  the  right  to  retain 
or  discharge  an  employee.  Get  the  German  mind 
immediately  for  details  and  overlook  nothing.  Be 
thorough,  my  man — thorough." 

"Exactly.  You  have  in  mind  a  place  for  the  son, 
who,  in  a  few  years  may  be  eligible  for  a  position." 

"Ach!  you  are  understanding  me  at  last!    Why 


no  THE  INVADER'S  SON 

all  this  trouble  if  I  had  not  my  son — his  foster 
son  in  mind.  If  German  blood  counts  for  any- 
thing, it  shines  best  in  commercial  affairs.  Why, 
Jacob!  Germans  and  Jews  in  business  are  twin 
brothers.  Mark  my  words,  now,  that  boy  in  Ste. 
Genevieve — Hermance's  boy — my  son — will  be 
smarter  than  any  lad  who  has  ever  been  brought 
up  in  the  French  hamlet!  Of  course,  I  want  to 
make  a  place  for  him  in  that  business  which  you 
are  to  found.  But  you  haven't  decided  upon  what 
you  will  do." 

"Oh!  a  factory  of  some  kind.  It  best  suits  a 
German  to  have  an  interest  in  a  factory.  Ah! 
Count,  remember  the  great  factories  of  Germany 
prior  to  1914!" 

"Well,  you  needn't  remind  me  of  our  losses/' 

"I  beg  your  pardon  again.  It  seems  I  must 
always  offend  you  to-day." 

But  the  Count  was  thinking  of  his  own  im- 
portance and  of  the  obsession  of  planning  and 
working  something  cunning,  so  he  said,  coldly,  as 
if  continuing,  "It's  the  old  policy  of  subsidizing 
an  industry  with  German  money.  Ha!  ha!  ha! 
Don't  you  remember,  Jacob,  what  we  had  done? — 
even  in  the  United  States  we  owned  newspapers 
and  munition  factories  two  years  after  the  United 
States  had  been  at  war  with  Germany.  Yes,  sub- 
sidizing an  industry  with  German  money  is  the 
thing!  That  policy  will  put  Germany  back  in  com- 
mercial matters  where  she  was  in  1914." 


PRACTICAL  REPENTANCE          in 

Lederfrank  nodded. 

"When  shall  I  begin?" 

"To-morrow,  Jacob.  Go  back  to  Ste.  Gen- 
evieve." 

Jacob  then  ventured  another  bit  of  information. 
"I  understand  he  has  been  considering  something 
from  La  Maison  Galarre.  That  institution  in  Paris 
was  crippled  during  the  war,  and  because  of  the 
fact,  Beauvais  could  be  persuaded  to  leave  it 
alone." 

"Then  persuade  him — without  delay." 

"But  what  if  I  decide  to  develop  this  phosphate 
business?" 

"Didn't  I  tell  you  to  use  your  judgment !  I  don't 
care  what  it  is.  I  can  depend  on  the  business  judg- 
ment of  a  Jew.  Damn  you!  if  you  do  me  it  will 
be  the  first  time  a  Jew  has  ever  got  the  best  of  an 
Essenhendel.  Your  father  was  my  good  friend 
when  I  was  a  youngster,  and  I  dare  you  to  make  a 
mistake." 

Lederfrank  shrugged  his  shoulders,  as  was  be- 
coming to  a  French  Jew,  and  waited  for  the  Count 
to  light  another  cigar. 

"Well,  I  am  ready,  and  will  use  my  judgment. 
If  I  undertake  your  scheme,  Count,  you  must  give 
me  a  free  hand." 

"You  have  it,  sir.    What  do  you  need  to  start?" 

"I  shall  require  half  the  money — one  hundred 
thousand  marks.  The  village  bank  of  Ste.  Gen- 
evieve  will  be  pleased  to  receive  the  deposit,  and 


H2  THE   INVADER'S   SON 

it  will  give  me  prestige  to  accomplish  any  aim  I 
may  select." 

"Good!"  agreed  the  German  nobleman,  with 
more  enthusiasm  than  at  any  time  during  their 
talk. 

Hence  the  details  were  settled,  and  Jacob  Leder- 
frank  set  out  for  the  village  on  the  Oise,  his  Jew- 
ish brains  in  a  whirlwind  of  scheming,  with  the  full 
knowledge  that  in  his  bill-book  he  carried  suffi- 
cient money  to  back  up  anything  he  wished  to 
undertake. 

By  that  time  Raoul  Beauvais  was  actually  think- 
ing of  beginning  some  small  business  in  his  home 
town  During  the  first  months  of  his  stay  since 
returning  from  the  army,  and  his  trip  to  Paris 
with  Madame  Beauvais,  he  had  discussed  with  her 
ways  and  means  of  providing  a  competency.  He 
had  settled  down  to  private  life,  plain  and  un- 
spoiled by  his  soldier's  experiences — even  unmind- 
ful of  being  lionized  by  his  military  friends — he 
mingled  with  the  people,  and  insisted  they  forget, 
in  daily  intercourse,  that  he  had  been  an  important 
private  in  the  French  army.  He  preferred  being 
known  simply  as  Raoul  Beauvais.  Nothing  pleased 
him  better  than  to  be  able  to  take  back  his  niche 
in  the  usual  humdrum  of  the  village.  The  offer 
from  La  Maison  Galarre  had  been  given  up  for 
the  reasons  stated  to  the  Count  by  Lederfrank — 
Beauvais  discovered  the  institution's  financial 
weakness.  The  master  of  Chateau  Morestier 


PRACTICAL  REPENTANCE          113 

would  rather  be  independent  in  a  small  way,  and 
live  at  home  with  friends  of  his  boyhood. 

The  acquaintanceship  begun  a  half  year  before 
between  Lederfrank  and  Beauvais  had  possibilities 
of  development.  Lederfrank,  upon  returning  to 
Ste.  Genevieve  from  his  visit  to  Count  Von  Essen- 
hendel,  proceeded  immediately  to  cultivate  Raoul. 
The  Jewish  gush  and  weakness  for  overdoing 
things  came  near  arousing  suspicions  of  ulterior 
motives,  until  Dr.  Anson  Joumonville,  who  had 
known  Lederfrank  in  Paris,  reassured  Beauvais 
by  dismissing  the  instance  with  the  simple  remark: 
"You  know,  Raoul,  it's  the  way  of  the  Jews.  If  a 
Jew  likes  you,  he  likes  you  entirely — and  expects 
some  day  to  make  money  out  of  you.  Don't  blame 
him  for  that — rather,  I  advise,  take  advantage  of 
it.  You  want  to  get  into  business — you  must  get 
into  business — why  not  with  a  Jew?  I  say,  Beau- 
vais, it's  a  dependable  rule;  if  you  haven't  money 
yourself,  get  close  to  money." 

Soon  the  bank  manager  in  Ste.  Genevieve  could 
not  avoid  mentioning  the  fact  that  Lederfrank's 
account  was  most  satisfactory.  Few,  if  any,  French 
firms  in  Champagne,  could  maintain  balances  in 
excess  of  one  hundred  thousand  francs.  "But  you 
know  Lederfrank's  a  Jew,"  the  bank  manager  was 
saying  on  that  occasion — and  of  course  among  his 
auditors  was  Raoul  Beauvais — "this  race  cannot  be 
equaled  in  money  matters.  In  Paris,  the  other  day, 
I  heard  a  prominent  banker,  a  Jew,  make  the  re- 


ii4  THE  INVADER'S   SON 

mark,  'I've  often  wondered  where  the  Gentiles  get 
all  the  money  that  we  Jews  take  away  from 
them.'  " 

Consequently,  news  of  Lederfrank's  cash  got 
noised  about  in  Ste.  Genevieve.  Men  with  money 
were  what  the  backward  village  needed,  and  it  be- 
hooved the  authorities — so  the  mayor  and  his  coun- 
cil said — to  extend  a  welcome  to  all  enterprising 
men. 

The  rapidity  with  which  Beauvais  made  friends 
with  Lederfrank  was  not  surprising.  In  fact,  they 
finally  got  close  enough  to  each  other  to  discuss  the 
advisability  of  looking  about  for  some  business  that 
promised  possibilities.  It  pleased  Beauvais  that 
Lederfrank  counselled  taking  no  one  else  into  confi- 
dence, and  from  day  to  day  they  walked  along  the 
river,  or  sat  in  the  cafe,  freely  making  suggestions 
one  to  the  other. 

Lederfrank  persisted  in  talking  phosphate — but 
at  first  Beauvais's  tastes  did  not  run  to  mines. 
However,  he  listened  politely,  and  tried  not  to  make 
difficulties  in  the  selection  of  an  enterprise.  He  was 
aware  that  the  business  world  had  begun  to  awake 
to  opportunities — and  secretly  he  believed  himself 
willing  to  trust  to  the  natural  acumen  of  the 
Hebrew.  However,  the  provincial  French  ambi- 
tion is  more  easily  satisfied  than  it  is  in  Paris,  and 
especially  in  a  poor  village  like  Ste.  Genevieve, 
which  had  been  content  to  sleep  for  hundreds  of 
years.  There  was  an  inadequacy  of  conception  of 


PRACTICAL  REPENTANCE          115 

large  commercial  undertakings.  In  fact,  ambition 
stopped  at  a  comfortable  living.  The  population 
in  the  surrounding  neighborhood  had  steadily  de- 
creased for  more  than  a  hundred  years.  Labor 
was  scarce.  Manufacturing  projects  of  various 
kinds  had  thrived  only  to  the  point  of  supplying 
local  needs. 

But  Lederfrank,  realizing  these  conditions,  kept 
on  suggesting  the  phosphate,  which  he  had  been  in- 
vestigating and  analyzing  for  some  time  past. 

In  the  university,  Lederfrank  had  completed 
courses  in  chemistry,  mineralogy,  and  also  a  course 
in  mining  engineering.  The  slight  traces  here  and 
there  of  whitish  stone,  in  the  vicinity  of  the  Oise, 
had  attracted  his  attention  during  the  retreat  of 
the  Germans  in  October,  1918.  He  had  taken 
pieces  of  the  chalky  formations  to  Paris  and  found 
that  they  contained  ingredients  valuable  in  the 
manufacture  of  commercial  fertilizer. 

One  day,  while  he  and  Beauvais  were  still  in 
earnest  pursuit  of  a  venture  that  might  bring  them 
fortunes,  they  returned  home  along  the  heights 
above  the  Oise,  and  descended  a  ravine  on  an  old 
farm.  This  homestead  had  suffered  greatly  during 
the  terrible  bombardments  exchanged  between  the 
French  and  Germans,  and  on  account  of  its  torn 
up  surface,  and  want  of  fertility,  reconstruction 
companies  had  neglected  to  fill  the  shell  holes.  The 
farmer  and  his  family  had  gone  away  with  refu- 
gees and  never  returned.  The  house  and  outbuild- 


u6  THE   INVADER'S   SON 

ings  were  demolished,  and  but  for  the  water  basin 
in  the  paddock,  the  site  of  human  habitation  had 
been  entirely  obliterated.  Weeds  and  briars — 
nature's  first  efforts  at  covering  up  the  destructive- 
ness  of  man — had  turned  the  place  into  a  wilder- 
ness. Down  in  the  gulch,  where  Beauvais  and 
Lederfrank  threaded  their  way,  the  undergrowth 
was  thick  and  troublesome.  But  Raoul's  heavy 
boot  loosened  a  lump  of  white  substance,  and 
Lede frank,  walking  closely  upon  his  friend's  heels, 
saw  the  fragment  and  picked  it  up,  and  began  to 
crumple  off  bits  which  were  held  up  to  the  light. 

"What  have  you  found?"  asked  Beauvais,  turn- 
ing, after  he  began  to  miss  the  sound  of  Leder- 
frank's  footsteps. 

"Phosphate  again,  Beauvais.  I  have  seen  several 
pieces  of  this  stuff  here  before." 

"That's  the  stuff,  is  it?  What  is  it  you  call  it- 
phosphate?  Why,  all  those  pieces  come  out  of  the 
upper  end  of  this  ravine,"  said  Raoul.  "I  didn't 
know  the  phosphate  you  were  talking  about  was 
like  that.  But  this  white  rock  has  been  found  in 
recent  years.  I  remember  the  first  I  ever  saw — I 
was  helping  the  owner  of  this  farm  to  dig  a  well, 
and  after  going  down  about  ten  feet,  we  came  into 
that  chalk  and  gave  it  up.  Probably  a  few  pieces 
of  it  washed  down  here." 

"It  isn't  chalk,"  said  Lederfrank  seriously. 
"Have  you  ever  seen  anything  like  it  about  the 
country?" 


PRACTICAL  REPENTANCE          117 

"No.  As  I  said  awhile  ago — I  remember  it  only 
in  recent  years,  and  principally  on  this  place — be- 
cause it  stopped  the  digging  of  the  well." 

"Who  owns  the  farm?" 

"I  do,"  said  Raoul  grinning — "when  I  pay  for 
it.  A  relative  of  the  owners  who  disappeared,  came 
last  week  and  begged  me  to  take  it  since  it  joins 
the  small  acreage  of  Chateau  Morestier." 

"We  shall  investigate  the  well  of  which  you 
speak.  I  am  convinced  that  in  the  locality,  phos- 
phate of  commercial  value  can  be  found.  Perhaps 
it's  on  the  old  farm." 

"What  use  would  it  be?"  asked  Raoul. 

"Oh,  it's  put  to  many  uses.  If  it's  of  a  certain 
quality  it  is  often  used  to  manufacture  fertilizer 
for  agricultural  purposes.  The  Germans  formerly 
made  much  business  with  it." 

"Ah,  I  think  I  remember  now." 

They  walked  on  for  a  few  steps,  then  Raoul 
said  meditatively,  "I  am  sure  you  could  depend 
upon  it  that  there  is  little  of  value  in  the  dis- 
covery. If  there's  anything  of  worth  in  this  part 
of  France  it  would  have  been  discovered  long  ago. 
The  fields  have  been  dug  into  for  coal.  Men  have 
dug  wells — " 

"But  this  white  rock  stopped  you  from  digging  a 
well." 

Raoul  did  not  change  his  subject:  "The  rail- 
roads have  cut  through  everywhere;  bombs  have 
turned  up  the  earth  in  unexpected  places;  nation- 


ii8  THE   INVADER'S   SON 

alities  from  every  part  of  the  world  have  crossed 
and  recrossed  these  poor  hills  and  valleys.  You 
are  mistaken,  Lederfrank.  For  me,  I  would  be 
satisfied  to  work  with  you  in  that  business  which  is 
so  much  favored  by  your  race — clothing." 

Lederfrank  persisted  in  holding  to  his  theory. 
He  said,  "The  sea  which  washed  over  these  valleys 
in  some  long  forgotten  age,  if  the  theories  of  min- 
eralogists are  correct,  deposited  the  beds  of  shells 
and  other  materials,  and  I  have  no  doubt  that  if 
we  should  go  now  to  the  well  you  neglected  to 
complete,  we  would  find  exposed  the  products  of 
nature's  factory  prepared  for  us  thousands  of  gen- 
erations ago." 

"Right  you  may  be.  It's  true  things  of  value 
are  often  discovered  in  unexpected  places." 

That  evening,  in  the  cafe,  over  the  mugs  of 
claret,  Lederfrank  and  Raoul  again  reverted  to 
the  question  of  phosphate,  and  decided  to  investi- 
gate the  abandoned  well  the  next  morning. 

A  number  of  laborers  were  engaged  and  the 
enterprise  of  prospecting  for  phosphate  began. 
Two  shafts  were  sunk  and  it  was  found  that  the 
bed  was  from  forty  to  fifty  feet  thick.  All  tests 
and  analyses  demonstrated  that  the  phosphate  pos- 
sessed the  qualities  most  valuable  for  fertilizer 
manufacture.  Therefore,  as  if  by  haphazard  good 
luck,  Beauvais  and  Lederfrank  found  the  business 
in  which  they  could  join. 

The  Jew  rubbed  his  hands  in  satisfaction  as  he 


PRACTICAL  REPENTANCE          119 

contemplated  the  ease  with  which  he  had 
engineered  his  scheme.  He  was  satisfied  with  the 
enormous  possibilities  which  his  imagination  con- 
structed of  the  phosphate  mine.  And  luck  again 
had  ordained  that  Beauvais  should  be  the  owner 
of  the  property.  Of  course,  he,  Leder frank,  would 
provide  the  money — and  that,  too,  without  making 
Beauvais  feel  uncomfortable  concerning  his  por- 
tion in  the  partnership.  Consequently,  it  was  ulti- 
mately agreed  that  Beauvais's  subscription  to  the 
capital  be  accepted  in  the  form  of  the  land  on 
which  the  phosphate  had  been  found,  and  that 
Lederfrank  would  produce  funds  with  which  to 
erect  the  plant  and  install  the  necessary  machinery. 
But  when  engineers  had  submitted  figures  on  re- 
quirements which  would  insure  successful  opera- 
tions, it  was  found  to  be  far  in  excess  of  the 
amount  agreed  upon  by  the  partners.  Therefore, 
Lederfrank  generously  loaned  Beauvais  sufficient 
money  on  an  interest  charge  of  three  per  cent  to 
enable  him  to  make  up  the  difference  in  capital. 
And  again  the  Jew  rubbed  his  hands  with  satisfac- 
tion, in  that  he  had  not  only  accomplished  Count 
Von  Essenhenders  scheme,  but  had  also  placed  a 
noose  about  Beauvais's  neck — the  loan — with 
which  to  control  him  if  the  team  of  Frenchman 
and  Jew  failed  to  work  together  harmoniously  dur- 
ing the  lifetime  of  the  mines. 


CHAPTER  XI 
A  FRENCHMAN'S  HOME 

PROSPERITY  ushered  in  by  the  development  of  the 
phosphate  mines  and  fertilizer  manufacturing 
plants  of  Lederfrank  changed  the  even  tenor  of 
Ste.  Gene  vie  ve  so  that  it  took  on  something  of  the 
quickened  life  which  followed  the  coming  of  peace. 
Beauvais  &  Company  was  at  once  the  important 
factor  in  the  sleeping  village  on  the  Oise.  Plenty 
and  happiness  came  into  many  homes  that  had 
known  the  pinch  of  poverty.  Chief  among  these 
brightened  domestic  retreats  was  the  Chateau  Mor- 
estier. 

At  the  suggestion  of  Jacob  Lederfrank,  that  it 
would  not  do  for  one  of  the  principal  owners  of 
the  greatest  industry  in  Northern  France  to  con- 
tinue to  live  in  the  ramshackled  relic  of  cavalier 
days  of  the  Louises,  Raoul  and  Hermance  accepted 
a  loan  from  the  generous  Jew,  sufficiently  large  to 
pay  off  the  old  mortgage  and  restore  the  Chateau 
to  its  original  splendor.  All  the  rooms  were  re- 
furnished; landscape  gardeners  trimmed  and 
dressed  the  shrubs  in  the  grounds.  Even  the  fields 
surrounding  the  ancient  habitation  were  not  over- 
looked by  those  having  charge  of  beautifying  Mor- 
estier.  An  automobile  was  rolled  into  the  carriage 
house;  a  modest  staff  of  servants  installed;  and, 

120 


A  FRENCHMAN'S  HOME  121 

in  general,  everything  necessary  was  done  to  place 
Raoul  and  his  family  on  a  footing  commensurate 
with  his  business  and  respectability. 

These  changes  and  additions  were  justified  by 
the  growth  of  manufacturing  plants,  and  Raoul 
began  almost  at  once  paying  back  the  capital  ad- 
vanced him,  and  the  products  from  the  firm  of 
Beauvais  &  Company  were  going  to  every  part  of 
Europe — and  to  the  Americas.  Wholesale  buyers 
and  scientific  men  frequently  visited  Ste.  Genevieve, 
and  later  Lederfrank  and  Beauvais  were  easily  the 
men  of  the  day. 

Fortunately,  Lederfrank  and  Beauvais  were  con- 
genial in  their  tastes  and  habits,  and  got  on  well  in 
conducting  the  vast  enterprise,  and  both  proved 
to  be  men  of  capacity  and  good  management.  There 
was  no  feeling  on  the  part  of  one  that  the  other 
could  not  carry  out  the  work  which  fell  to  his  lot. 
Racial  differences  did  not  disturb  the  equanimity 
of  relationships  that  existed.  Lederfrank,  while 
secretly  following  out  the  designs  of  the  rich  Ger- 
man Count,  was  in  conduct  towards  Raoul  Beau- 
vais a  gentleman  and  a  friend.  He  impressed  upon 
his  partner  and  those  about  him  that  the  thing 
foremost  in  his  mind  was  to  work  honestly  to  push 
to  immense  success  the  colossal  undertaking  in 
which  they  were  engaged.  Naturally,  Beauvais 
felt  deeply  indebted  to  Lederfrank  for  his  liberal, 
almost  lavish,  support.  Under  such  circumstances, 
race  prejudice  had  no  chance. 


122  THE   INVADER'S   SON 

The  beautiful  home  on  the  heights  housed  the 
joys  of  perfect  love  and  compatibility.  Two  small 
sons  and  two  smaller  daughters — besides  Paul,  the 
invader's  son, — frolicked  about  the  immense  place. 
Paul  was  now  fourteen  years  of  age,  of  fine  poise, 
pleasant  dispositioned,  brainy,  strong-willed,  a 
forceful  child.  Alfred,  the  son  next  to  Paul,  was 
eight  years  old.  Then  came  Victor,  Marie,  and 
petite  Hermance,  the  baby,  just  past  her  second 
birthday.  Hermance,  the  mother,  and  queen  of  the 
Chateau,  was  a  lovely  woman  in  full  bloom.  A 
happy  marriage,  enough  of  bitter  trial  to  cause  her 
to  appreciate  the  respite,  sufficient  in  worldly  goods 
to  bring  her  ease,  a  clear  horizon  into  the  future, 
gave  her  the  opportunities  to  grow  and  meet  the 
requirements  of  modern  womanhood  of  the  better 
class.  Her  children  received  always  her  first  con- 
sideration; then  the  husband.  She  found  time  for 
reading,  and  music,  and  things  that  brought  to  her 
relaxation  and  sunshine,  until  something  of  cul- 
ture was  added  to  her  natural  gifts. 

Madame  Morestier,  enfeebled  in  mind  beyond 
recovery,  soon  forgot  her  dislike  for  Paul — in  fact 
forgot  everything  in  the  past — she  loved  Paul  and 
the  other  four  children.  Day  after  day  she  sat  in 
her  easy  chair  watching  them  play,  or  permitted 
herself  to  be  led  by  Hermance  or  Paul  to  the 
gardens. 

But  Raoul  Beauvais  had  not  found  his  likes  and 
dislikes  so  easily  controlled.  He  had  tried  to  keep 


A  FRENCHMAN'S  HOME  123 

his  promises  to  Hermance,  but  the  boy  Paul  had 
not  the  same  place  in  his  heart  as  had  his  own  sons. 
In  one  particular  alone  did  he  keep  to  his  word, 
and  that  was  not  to  discuss  the  matter  with  Her- 
mance— nor  did  he  refer  to  his  own  feelings 
towards  the  invader's  son,  the  rankle  in  his  heart 
that  one  with  German  blood  should  be  the  first 
born  in  his  home — and  that  this  intruder  should 
be  fairer  and  better  endowed  than  his  own  children. 
The  master  of  the  house,  in  struggling  with  this 
cancer  in  his  happiness,  tried  to  soothe  his  pain  by 
plunging  deep  into  business  during  the  day,  and 
to  keep  up  the  artificial  protection  by  reading  and 
studying  at  night.  He  spent  his  evenings  in  his 
library,  where  he  received  his  intellectual  friends, 
among  whom  was  Dr.  Anson  Joumonville,  by  that 
time  a  leader  in  politics  and  activities  of  national 
import. 

Nevertheless,  into  this  library  the  boy  Paul  went 
daily,  despite  his  younger  brothers'  pleadings  to 
go  with  them  for  play.  He  hungered  for  knowl- 
edge, and  uninvited  and  unassisted  he  found  for 
himself  in  wonderful  books,  information  that  satis-1' 
fied  his  longings.  In  this  way  he  began  to  live  far 
beyond  his  years.  At  night,  unmindful  of  his 
father's  disapproval,  he  would  sit  for  hours  in  an 
inconspicuous  corner  of  the  library  and  listen  to 
discussions  on  world  policies  with  Dr.  Joumonville 
and  others,  in  which  Raoul's  opinions  carried  not 
inconsiderable  weight.  And  when  Raoul  would 


i24  THE   INVADER'S   SON 

tell  him  to  go  to  bed,  he  would  modestly  beg  to  re- 
main a  little  longer,  which  request  was  nearly 
always  refused,  and,  in  obedience  to  his  father,  he 
would  reluctantly  obey. 

There  was  no  waste  or  extravagance  in  the  Beau- 
vais  home — plenty  of  everything  did  not  mean  that 
the  usual  French  care  had  no  part  in  the  econom- 
ical foresight  for  days  to  come.  In  this  atmos- 
phere, a  boy  of  Paul's  capabilities  had  plenty  of 
room  in  which  to  develop,  and  there  was  nothing 
that  retarded  the  slightest  inclination  to  expand 
in  those  things  natural  to  a  child  of  such  fine  feel- 
ings and  generous  impulses.  Culture  and  learn- 
ing came  continually  through  the  visits  of  persons 
of  broad  educations,  many  of  them  noted  for 
special  accomplishments.  The  easy  circumstances 
made  all  things  possible  without  the  suggestion  that 
lavishness  entered  into  any  phase  of  the  day-to-day 
routine. 

Among  those  who  came  at  intervals  were  big 
business  men  of  America,  lawyers  and  diplomats; 
from  England,  bankers  and  members  of  Parlia- 
ment; from  Paris,  the  artist,  playwright  and  poli- 
tician; from  Germany  an  occasional  scientist — 
now  and  then  a  musician — and  once  in  a  great 
while  a  profound  university  man;  and  from  other 
countries,  men  of  important  walks  in  life.  There 
came  also  a  sprinkling  of  famous  women — women 
of  refinement  and  education;  women  of  heart  and 
wholesome  lives;  women  of  beauty  and  taste. 


A  FRENCHMAN'S  HOME  125 

Hence  this  old  Chateau  on  the  heights  of  the  Oise, 
by  way  of  the  bridge  of  wealth,  became  the  mecca 
of  the  best  things  to  be  had  in  life. 

The  flowers  in  this  home  were  the  children.  They 
were  the  trusts  committed  to  Raoul  and  Hermance 
for  upbringing  and  training,  and  the  easy  circum- 
stances injected  into  the  life  of  this  couple,  through 
the  deep-laid  schemes  of  Count  Von  Essenhendel, 
made  it  possible  to  shut  out  the  grim  face  of  re- 
sponsibility that  frequents  the  average  home. 

Raoul  and  Hermance  guided  their  tender  minds 
without  the  children's  knowing  that  back  of  it  all 
was  a  noisy  factory  which  turned  out  the  funds 
necessary  to  maintain  the  Garden  of  Eden.  Care- 
fully selected  governesses  and  tutors  apportioned 
the  studies  for  these  young  minds,  and  everything 
possible  was  done  that  the  little  ones  might  grow 
healthily  and  uniformly  until  they  were  able  to  take 
their  stations  in  the  whirling  duties  of  the  world. 

And  back  of  those  early  days  of  development 
and  watchful  care,  Paul  gave  evidence  of  leader- 
ship. His  being  older  than  his  brothers  in  the 
home,  entitled  him  to  command,  but  while  yet 
under  ten  years  of  age  he  began  to  show  inklings 
of  a  master's  ability.  Then  as  little  more  time 
elapsed,  Raoul's  clear  vision  detected  these  traits 
and  watched  them  with  jealousy.  Would  the  Teu- 
ton blood  be  prominent  in  overbearing,  dictatorial 
conduct  in  Paul  while  yet  so  young?  If  so,  it 
should  be  rigorously  curbed.  But  as  unfairly  as 


126  THE  INVADER'S  SON 

Raoul  judged,  he  could  not  find  fault  in  the  child 
— the  French  in  Paul  shown  in  polite  considerate- 
ness  continually  bestowed  upon  his  mother  and  the 
younger  children.  In  fact  his  mother's  blood  in  his 
veins  had  tempered  and  toned  down  the  rough, 
boorish  propensities  of  the  northern  race  and  made 
Paul,  from  the  time  he  could  toddle  about,  a  dip- 
lomatic, safe  commander  of  the  younger  members 
of  the  household.  But  these  commendable  things 
in  Paul,  instead  of  winning  Raoul,  left  the  latter 
more  dissatisfied  than  before — the  foster  father 
did  not  feel  ashamed  that  he  had  harbored  ill  or 
improper  feelings  towards  the  youngster;  he 
merely  tolerated  Paul. 

Once  this  growing,  deep-seated  resentment  in 
the  fine  man  of  business  came  near  disrupting  the 
secure  foundations  of  the  home  on  the  heights. 
It  was  in  the  spring  when  the  floods  of  the  Oise 
swept  onward  to  the  Seine.  Paul,  leading  the 
younger  boys  in  play,  had  established  a  station  on 
a  small  island  below  the  village,  and  remaining 
there  for  hours  during  the  day,  the  flood  arose 
and  threatened  to  sweep  the  playground.  Her- 
mance  summoned  her  husband  to  rescue  the  chil- 
dren, and,  of  course  he  removed  the  two  younger 
boys  first,  and  seeing  a  crest  of  new  flood  coming 
rapidly  around  the  curve  in  the  river,  allowed  the 
meanness  in  his  heart  to  get  the  better  of  his  judg- 
ment, and  he  tarried  almost  too  long.  Hermance 
discovered  then  the  hate  in  Raoul  that  meant 


A  FRENCHMAN'S  HOME  127 

murder  and  would  have  cast  herself  into  the  turbid 
waters  and  saved  Paul,  had  not  her  master  and 
protector  aroused  himself  in  time  to  snatch  the 
child  from  death's  grasp. 

For  a  long  time  after  this  incident  Hermance 
was  uneasy  and  occasionally  could  see  the  wild 
beast  of  jealousy,  which  had  almost  broken  prison 
on  that  one  occasion,  peeping  threateningly  out  of 
the  lapses  in  RaouFs  daily  conduct. 

However,  Hermance  said  nothing;  she  was 
afraid  to  mention  that  she  had  uncovered  the  secret 
unhappiness  of  her  husband.  And  once  when  he 
related  to  her  in  a  peculiar  state  of  mind,  an  inci- 
dent which  he  had  observed  in  the  play  room  at 
the  top  of  the  Chateau,  she  was  near  to  reproving 
him  for  harboring  hatred  for  the  child,  but  she 
held  her  peace.  Raoul  went  on  to  say  that  he  had 
looked  into  the  play  room  upon  Paul  and  the  three 
younger  children  as  they  pursued  their  games  in 
the  center  of  a  thick  rug  which  had  been  spread  in 
the  middle  of  the  floor.  The  most  prominent  of 
these  pastimes  was  the  game  of  herding  and  tend- 
ing a  flock  of  about  two  dozen  toy  sheep. 

The  nurse  was  sitting  far  away  in  one  corner, 
looking  on  interestedly,  but  in  no  way  interfering. 

Paul  directed  the  pretty  game.  Instead  of  putting 
himself  forward  as  the  prominent  actor,  Marie, 
then  the  baby,  was  skillfully  guided  in  assuming 
the  role  of  imaginary  owner  of  the  flock  and  folds. 
Paul,  Alfred  and  Victor  were  commanded  to  do 


128  THE   INVADER'S   SON 

the  herding  and  feeding — and  the  rather  difficult 
job  of  driving  the  sheep  in  of  the  frequently  re- 
curring evenings  and  putting  them  into  the  sheds, 
always,  and  with  full  knowledge  of  the  fact,  Paul 
held  exacting  control  of  the  situation.  His  every 
wish  was  carried  out  by  the  younger  children  to 
the  letter — but  kindness  and  efficient  judgment 
were  still  used  by  him  even  at  that  age.  This  much 
was  admitted  by  Raoul. 

For  several  minutes  Hermance  listened  to  her 
husband's  piqued  conversation  in  which  he  de- 
scribed the  trivial  incident  in  the  lives  of  the  chil- 
dren. Well  did  she  know  what  he  was  trying  to 
convey  to  her — the  fact  that  he  had  lost  himself  to 
jealousy.  She  knew  that,  in  addition  to  the  bitter 
resentment  which  Raoul  had  harbored  secretly  all 
those  years,  he  was  now  discovering  that  Paul  was 
one  who  in  the  future  would  be  guiding  and  con- 
trolling the  minds  of  others. 

And,  sometime  after  that,  Raoul  acknowledged 
that  he  had  observed  the  children  again.  This  time 
they  played  with  an  unusual  mechanical  toy  for 
turning  out  pressed  blocks  of  moist  clay — minia- 
ture bricks  for  playing  purposes. 

The  several  machines  were  run  by  a  small  steam 
engine.  The  operation  consisted  of  feeding  clay 
and  water  in  through  hoppers  at  different  points  in 
the  right  proportions,  and,  after  passing  through 
the  mixer,  the  mortar  resulting  was  carried  into 
moulds,  and  firm  blocks  of  precise  dimensions  came 


A  FRENCHMAN'S  HOME  129 

out  on  a  tiny  table.  Also  by  adjusting  parts  of  the 
simple  machine,  blocks  of  varying  lengths,  sizes, 
and  shapes  could  be  as  easily  produced.  In  this 
particular  instance,  while  being  observed  by  Raoul, 
the  youthful  constructors  were  using  plans  and 
photographs  furnished  with  the  outfit,  as  guides  to 
the  proceeding  of  manufacturing  materials  for  the 
proposed  structure. 

"Victor,"  said  Paul,  "you  are  running  at  too 
high  a  speed." 

Paul,  in  this  case,  was  the  superintendent  of 
construction.  The  building  in  hand  was  a  medieval 
castle.  Victor,  the  youngest,  was  running  the  ma- 
chinery ;  Alfred  put  the  blocks  in  place  on  the  walls. 

"I  can't  see  what  difference  that  makes — it  turns 
them  out  quicker."  x 

"Mr.  Builder,"  said  Paul  to  Alfred,  "do  you 
notice  anything  wrong  with  your  blocks?" 

"They  are  softer  than  the  others.  Some  are  not 
so  perfect,"  replied  the  very  serious-minded 
Alfred. 

"Well,"  insisted  Victor,  "I  don't  see  that  fast 
running  of  the  machinery  could  have  anything  to 
do  with  that." 

"It  has.  You  can  find  it  out  for  yourself.  You 
and  Alfred  will  want  to  figure  out  that  while  I 
arrange  the  special  lengths  for  the  round  towers." 

Alfred  went  over  to  the  press  and  watched  the 
moulds  being  crowded  in  full  of  soft  mixture 
which  was  then  quickly  jabbed  by  the  compressors. 


130  THE   INVADER'S   SON 

The  regular  bits  of  clay  thus  formed  were  quickly 
caught  up  by  the  revolving  cylinders,  shaped  per- 
fectly, and  dumped  as  finished  products  from  the 
crude-material  hoppers.  In  other  words,  the  ma- 
chine was  being  crowded  beyond  its  capacity.  How- 
ever, Victor  did  not  see  why  the  work  should  not 
be  perfect.  He  was  not  even"  disposed  to  take  the 
necessary  interest  in  the  matter — actually  added 
more  fuel  to  the  fire-box. 

"Come,  Victor,"  said  Alfred,  "we  must  find  out 
why  fast  running  will  not  give  us  best  results." 

"Oh,  the  blocks  are  all  right.  When  I  run  ma- 
chinery I  like  to  hear  it  hum." 

Victor's  tone  and  manner  showed  that  he  was 
bored  by  even  the  suggestion  that  he  learn  some- 
thing. 

There  was  open  rebellion  in  the  works. 

Paul  sat  at  an  improvised  table  studying  his 
plans,  but  Victor's  words  were  not  lost — nor  his 
manner,  for  Raoul,  the  father,  looking  on  from  his 
place  of  vantage,  saw  that  the  invader's  son  was 
not  only  observing  the  situation,  but  solving  it  as 
well.  Paul  saw  that  the  engineer  proposed  to  run 
things  his  way,  blocks  or  no  blocks. 

There  was  a  hush  in  the  atmosphere,  a  moment 
of  critical  import,  even  though  the  manufacturing 
was  child's  play,  and  the  problem  one  that  is  usu- 
ally got  over  with  by  a  fist  fight. 

"Come  here,  boys,"  said  Paul  in  the  most  pleas- 
ant tones. 


A  FRENCHMAN'S  HOME  131 

Mr.  Beauvais  watched  to  see  what  would 
happen. 

The  two  younger  brothers  came  over  to  Paul, 
Victor  a  trifle  sulky  and  suspicious. 

Paul  proceeded  with  a  smile  on  his  face.  "We 
haven't  chosen  a  name  for  this  castle,  have  we?" 

"No,"  said  Victor,  casting  an  eye  back  at  his  hiss- 
ing, fuming  engine. 

"You  see  the  name  will  be  carved  over  the  main 
entrance,"  went  on  Paul,  pointing  to  his  plans. 

"I  know  a  good  name,"  shouted  Victor. 

''So  do  I,"  said  Alfred  excitedly. 

"Let  me  name  this  one,  Paul,"  the  sturdy 
engineer  began,  assuming  the  pleading  tones  that 
he  had  discovered  would  win  for  him. 

"Now,  I'll  tell  you  what  I'll  do.  The  one  who 
finds  out  first  why  the  blocks  are  not  coming  out 
right  and  explains  it  to  me,  shall  have  the  privilege 
of  naming  the  castle." 

Immediately  both  boys  were  bending  over  the 
moulds  and  watching  every  movement. 

Victor  went  over  to  his  engine,  slowed  it  down 
a  certain  number  of  revolutions,  and  then  came 
back  to  find  that  the  blocks  were  coming  out 
better. 

"Oh,  I  was  just  running  it  too  fast,  Paul." 

"Yes,  all  of  us  know  that.  But  why  will  the 
blocks  not  come  out  just  as  well  when  they  are 
being  turned  out  so  quickly?" 

"Fast  running  is  the  cause.     But  why?" 


132  THE   INVADER'S   SON 

"I  guess,"  said  Victor,  now  looking  important, 
"the  press  don't  get  all  the  water  out." 

"That's  it,  Vic — the  blocks  don't  have  the  re- 
quired time  to  'set,'  as  the  book  of  instructions 
calls  it." 

Victor  proudly  selected  the  name  "Raoul"  for 
the  castle,  and  went  back  to  his  engine  satisfied. 

Paul  went  on  with  his  plans,  first  measuring  the 
paper  drawing,  then  going  over  and  making  com- 
parison with  the  actual  building,  and,  while  there 
was  a  glow  of  triumph  on  his  brow,  he  concealed 
it  from  his  brothers. 

The  father  turned  away  more  convinced  than 
ever  that  Paul  possessed  abilities  which  his  brothers 
lacked,  and  this  further  confirmation  did  not  please 
Beauvais.  His  description  of  the  incident  to  his 
wife  carried  with  it  the  undertow  of  dissatisfac- 
tion. Hermance  felt  sorry  for  him,  yet  she  knew 
that  Raoul  could  not  help  his  resentment  that  the 
invader's  son  should  be  the  leader  and  the  superior 
of  his  own  children.  However,  she  kept  silent,  and 
prayed  that  a  way  might  be  found  to  remove  the 
bitterness  from  her  husband's  heart. 


CHAPTER  XII 

THE  STING  OF  INJUSTICE 

GRADUALLY,  and  perhaps  unconsciously  for  a  time, 
Raoul  Beauvais  went  on  observing  Paul's  develop- 
ment, and  gave  expression  to  his  uneasiness  merely 
by  relating  what  he  saw  to  Hermance.  Of  course, 
this  state  of  mind  could  not  be  endured  by  even  a 
careful  business  man  without  his  discovering  the 
canker  himself.  The  French  are  usually  fair- 
minded,  generous,  whole-hearted ;  but  jealousy 
seems  to  spoil  these  attributes  in  the  French  quicker 
than  in  most  races.  Hence  in  time  the  father 
acknowledged  to  Hermance  that  Paul  displeased 
him. 

Said  he  to  her,  "Paul  is  better  endowed  mentally 
than  my  own  boys.  He  is  good  and  true  and  all 
that,  but  how  can  I  stand  it?" 

"I  understand,  Raoul,  but  you  must  be  char- 
itable," said  Hermance,  knowing  full  well  that 
the  advice  was  lost. 

Alfred  and  Victor  were  bright,  industrious 
fellows;  quick  to  learn;  almost  brilliant  in  some 
things,  and,  one  might  say  above  the  average,  but 
Paul  led  them.  In  studies  at  school,  in  games,  in 
making  friends,  Paul  was  their  master  and  leader. 
He  also  ruled  the  boys  in  the  village.  Men,  women, 
and  children  liked  him,  and  it  began  to  be 

133 


134  THE   INVADER'S   SON 

whispered  about  the  community  that  Paul  Beau- 
vais  would  some  day  be  an  extraordinary  man. 

At  all  times  it  is  extremely  difficult  for  parents 
to  refrain  from  showing  partiality  among  their 
children.  If  there  is  an  interloper  in  the  circle, 
naturally  it  is  easier  to  make  differences  adverse 
to  him.  In  early  childhood  days,  Beauvais  was 
closely  occupied  in  building  the  phosphate- ferti- 
lizer, and  did  not  observe  everything  that  went  on, 
but  as  years  lengthened  and  he  discovered  Paul's 
capabilities  as  illustrated  in  the  two  incidents  previ- 
ously mentioned,  he  was  quick  to  catch  up  the  con- 
tinual din  of  praise  for  Paul.  Of  course,  at  inter- 
vals he  did  try  hard  to  overcome  jealousy — for  he 
was  a  good  man,  and  knew  that  jealousy  and  hate 
are  wrong — nevertheless,  he  was  too  human  not 
to  feel  a  secret  regret  that  one  of  his  own  sons 
should  not  have  been  the  superior  in  his  family. 

By  degrees  he  allowed  jealousy  to  unbalance  his 
judgment,  and  he  saw  Paul's  actions  always  in  the 
less  favorable  light ;  and  Beauvais,  in  brooding  over 
his  disappointment,  would  say  to  himself:  "It  is 
the  German  showing  in  Paul — I  must  get  it  out  of 
him  or  kill  him !" 

Then  feverishly  he  would  watch  from  day  to 
day  while  Paul  raced,  as  it  were,  to  young  man- 
hood, and  the  green  eyes  of  jealousy  discovered 
imaginary  traits  of  Teutonic  character.  The  foster- 
father  went  so  far  as  to  comment  aloud  to  himself 
as  he  walked  home  one  day:  "The  German  is  big 


THE  STING  OF  INJUSTICE          135 

in  Paul — the  insane  desire  to  rule,  the  savage  over- 
bearing, the  cool,  calculating  setting  of  traps  to 
win; — he  has  all  these  hellish  propensities!" — He 
clenched  his  hands  and  vowed  to  conquer  the  boy 
and  make  of  him  a  Frenchman. 

Few  men  are  broad-minded  enough  to  trace 
strong  talents  in  their  children  to  the  mothers.  Had 
Raoul  Beauvais  studied  Paul  as  carefully  and  im- 
partially as  he  should,  he  would  have  found  that 
the  child  inherited  all  his  good  qualities  from 
Madame  Beauvais — and  much  of  his  intellect  and 
strength  of  personality,  for  Paul  was  Hermance's 
child  in  spite  of  her  prenatal  protests.  The  German 
was  in  Paul,  too — the  methodical  plodding,  the 
astute,  orderly  mind,  the  physique,  the  thirst  for 
scientific  knowledge;  but  these  were  commendable, 
and  Beauvais  should  have  been  fair  enough  to  have 
admired  them  even  though  they  had  come  to  Paul 
from  some  fourth  generation  of  apes.  Of  course, 
Beauvais  attributed  them  to  the  tainted  German 
blood.  Paul  also  had  deep  in  him  other  German 
traits  that  might  never  have  awakened  had  not 
Beauvais  been  so  unwise  as  to  arouse  them  in  his 
blundering  rebukes  during  that  dangerous  period 
of  transit  from  boyhood  to  manhood. 

In  no  sense  was  Paul  vain.  He  did  not  even 
know  that  people  in  Ste.  Genevieve  thought  so 
well  of  him.  Beauvais  misrepresented  by  the 
method  of  indirect  allusion  so  that  at  one  time  Paul 
believed  his  neighbors  to  harbor  unfavorable  opin- 


136  THE   INVADER'S  SON 

ions  of  him.  This  false  impression  might  have 
continued  had  not  Paul's  mother  discovered  it  and 
been  thoughtful  enough  to  correct  it.  She  possessed 
too  much  wisdom  to  allow  her  own  child  to  become 
embittered  of  the  world  while  so  young.  There- 
fore, by  her  watchful  care,  Paul  was  enabled  to 
live  a  simple  unaffected  life,  and,  in  response  for 
love,  was  obedient,  kind,  attentive,  and  thoughtful 
of  others — wholly  unconscious  of  being  objection- 
able to  any  one. 

He  and  his  brothers  went  to  Paris  to  school,  and 
returned  at  intervals  to  spend  happy  days  at  home. 
Unfortunately,  it  was  about  this  time  that  Paul 
noticed  a  coldness  of  his  supposed  father  in  that 
the  latter  was  not  so  talkative  to  him  as  to  Victor 
and  Alfred,  but  Paul  put  it  down  to  the  worries  of 
the  business,  and  that  he  was  older  than  Victor  and 
Alfred.  Mother  remained  the  same,  and  after  all 
that  meant  more  to  Paul  than  all  else  besides. 

When  at  home  Paul  continued  to  frequent  the 
library  of  evenings  when  Mr.  Beauvais  entertained 
his  friends.  Upon  returning  for  his  vacation,  at 
the  time  he  first  discovered  his  father's  coolness 
towards  him,  he  still  continued  to  go  to  the  library, 
although  he  sometimes  felt  uncomfortable  at  the 
restraint  and  silence  of  the  man  whom  he  loved  as 
father,  and  believed  to  be  his  father.  On  these 
occasions  in  the  library,  Paul  was  especially  glad 
when  Dr.  Anson  Joumonville  came,  for  then  he 
heard  Mr.  Beauvais  and  the  Doctor  discuss  history 


THE  STING  OF  INJUSTICE          137 

and  politics.  These  were  absorbing  subjects,  and, 
while  the  men  exchanged  views,  or  took  issue  with 
one  another  on  disputed  points,  he  sat  entranced, 
and  longed  to  acquire  sufficient  grasp  of  both 
branches  to  enable  him  to  say  something  himself. 

Just  then  the  people  of  the  earth,  were  being 
threatened  with  another  war.  This  and  that  in  the 
treaties  signed  at  the  close  of  the  great  war  had 
been  violated.  Taxes  had  continued  higher  than 
previous  to  1914,  and  would  continue  so  for  at 
least  a  hundred  years  to  come  to  pay  for  the  stu- 
pendous expenditures  of  the  old  \var. 

Statesmen  in  every  quarter  of  the  Globe  had 
been  considering  the  formation  of  a  League  of 
Nations.  The  proposal  had  been  made  several 
times  during  the  continuance  of  the  world  war  of 
1914,  and,  in  fact,  Lloyd  George  and  President 
Woodrow  Wilson  advocated  the  organization  of 
such  a  league  at  or  before  the  conclusion  of  peace 
with  the  Germans  and  Austrians  in  1919,  and 
diplomats  and  wise  men  were  opposed  to  the  break- 
ing out  of  further  silly  quarrels,  and  thought  on 
spasmodically,  year  by  year,  about  some  way  to 
weld  nations  into  a  common  union  for  universal 
protection.  Other  men  of  political  renown  called 
up  a  proposal  that  had  been  advanced  during  the 
great  war;  namely,  to  organize  all  the  countries 
into  an  International  Republic  in  which  each  mem- 
ber pledged  that  nation's  army  as  a  unit  in  the 
forces  of  all  to  punish  any  state  or  kingdom,  re- 


138  THE   INVADER'S   SON 

public  or  empire,  which  presumed  to  disturb  the 
peace  of  the  universe.  The  scheme  had  been  pro- 
nounced Utopian,  and  national  leaders  were  timid 
about  permitting  their  names  to  be  used  in  connec- 
tion with  it.  Many  men  argued  it  could  not  be 
done.  The  English  writer,  H.  G.  Wells,  declared: 

"The  League  of  Nations  is  up  against  an 
idea  which  saturates  our  histories,  saturates 
the  minds  of  statesmen,  saturates  the  press, 
saturates  European  thought  and  the  thought 
of  many  spirited  states  outside  Europe,  and 
that  is  what  I  call  the  Great  Power  idea  in 
human  affairs  .  .  . 

"Every  state  is  conceived  of  as  a  Power, 
either  already  a  Great  Power  or  as  a  little 
sly,  watchful  state,  waiting  for  its  chance  to 
become  a  Great  Power.  All  the  proceedings 
of  a  state  under  this  obsession  are  shaped  by 
something  called  a  Policy,  which  is  no  less 
and  no  more  than  a  scheme  to  grab  some 
coveted  advantage,  to  sow  dissensions  between 
dangerous  rivals,  to  undermine  some  powerful 
antagonist  .  .  . 

"It  is  for  us  who  survive  to  see  that  man- 
kind is  not,  in  a  mood  of  weariness  and  re- 
action and  resentment,  cheated  by  its  old  ma- 
chinery and  its  stale  traditions  of  the  harvests 
of  peace." 

But  however  much  the  League  of  Nations  was 
needed,  as  the  years  of  the  new  regime  rolled  on 


THE  STING  OF  INJUSTICE          139 

from  1919,  men  and  sovereignties  fooled  them- 
selves by  working  at  the  plan  without  actually  in- 
tending to  perfect  it.  In  keeping  with  the  usual 
carelessness  and  unconcern  of  humanity  for  its 
own  good,  the  proposal  was  allowed  to  drag  and 
become  soiled  with  cobwebs  of  neglect — until  new 
mutterings  made  foundations  tremble. 

The  International  Republic  was  a  favorite  theme 
with  Paul,  and  whenever  it  was  up  for  considera- 
tion in  the  home  library,  he  ventured,  with  due 
deference,  to  ask  questions  of  Beauvais  and  Dr. 
Joumonville.  One  night,  in  particular,  when  war 
was  threatened  again,  he  took  great  interest  in  Dr. 
Joumonville's  progressive  ideas  on  this  subject,  and 
unintentionally  interrupted  his  father  in  his  eager- 
ness to  learn  more  and  more  about  what  was  going 
on  in  diplomatic  groups  regarding  plans  to  launch 
a  campaign  for  bringing  about  the  union. 

"Paul,"  said  Mr.  Beauvais  sternly,  "you  are  too 
young  to  interrupt  gentlemen  when  they  are  talk- 
ing. Go  to  bed." 

The  bitterness  in  the  man's  voice  surprised  the 
boy — and  Dr.  Joumonville.  With  the  promptness  of 
a  budding  soldier,  Paul  arose,  bowed,  and  said: 

"Father,  I  beg  your  pardon.  It  never  occurred 
to  me  to  interrupt  you.  I  was  only  interested  and 
forgot  myself." 

"To  bed,  sir.  I've  had  quite  sufficient  of  your 
self-importance." 

Paul  obeyed  instantly.     No  one  had  ever  spoken 


140  THE   INVADER'S   SON 

to  him  in  such  a  manner  before,  and  he  wondered 
what  he  could  have  said  that  was  so  offensive.  He 
went  to  his  room  and  wept.  He  reviewed  his 
thoughtless  conduct — believed  it  to  have  been 
thoughtless  since  it  had  angered  his  father.  For 
hours  he  lay  on  his  bed  awake,  and  tried  to  re- 
member every  word  he  had  said,  when  he  had  said 
it,  and  with  what  inflection.  Failing  to  comprehend 
the  wrong  in  any  part  of  his  innocent  inquiries,  he 
resolved  to  hasten  down  to  Mr.  Beauvais  early  in 
the  morning,  and  make  it  perfectly  clear  that  no 
impertinence  was  meant. 

"Father,  said  he  after  breakfast,  "I'm  very  sorry 
for  what  I  did  last  night.  You  must  have  mis- 
construed something,  for  it  never  entered  my  heart 
to  offend  you." 

Beauvais  momentarily  felt  ashamed  of  himself, 
and  somewhat  softened  in  his  resolve  to  curb  the 
boy's  leaning  toward  ascendency. 

"That's  all  right,  Paul,  "only  see  to  it  that  you're 
more  careful  next  time;"  thus  trailing  a  cloud 
across  the  bright  sky  which  his  open  words  had 
cleared. 

Other  vacations  came,  and  the  chasm  between 
Raoul  and  the  boy  yearly  widened.  Deeper  and 
deeper  Beauvais  regretted  the  presence  of  the  in- 
vader's son  in  his  home,  knowing  that  in  him  was 
a  man  who,  when  he  would  be  clothed  in  the 
physique  of  maturity  would  declare  himself — and 
possibly  outshine  Victor  and  Alfred. 


THE  STING  OF  INJUSTICE          141 

Rumors  of  wars  passed,  and  discussions  of  how 
to  form  a  union  of  nations  continued.  The  Beau- 
vais  library  remained  as  the  private  assembly  for 
deciding  these  questions  locally,  and  Paul  persisted 
in  occupying  his  inconspicuous  corner  in  that 
chamber  to  listen  in  silence  to  all  that  the  wise  men 
who  came  had  to  say  and  how  they  said  it;  for 
Paul  was  conscious  of  an  untried  power  within 
himself — in  spite  of  the  lack  of  sympathy  from 
Beauvais — and  stubbornly  resolved  to  be  prepared 
against  the  day  when  he  should  be  called  upon  to 
justify  his  existence. 


CHAPTER  XIII 

HIS  MOTHER  UNDERSTOOD 

PAUL  watched  his  father  walk  off  down  the  wind- 
ing road  that  led  from  the  Chateau  Morestier,  until 
he  disappeared  behind  a  cluster  of  low-branched 
trees  at  the  foot  of  the  hill.  The  youth's  eyes  filled 
with  tears  as  he  thought  of  recent  rebukes  admin- 
istered by  the  man,  and  he  knew  not  why  his  father 
should  hate  him — and  bestow  lavish  favors  upon 
Victor  and  Alfred.  Paul  shivered  while  an  uncom- 
fortable fear  crept  over  him.  Would  Raoul  Beauvais 
ultimately  drive  him  from  the  home?  Was  the  re- 
buke, that  particular  morning,  to  be  the  beginning 
of  a  lasting  estrangement?  Could  it  be  that  the 
strong  man,  who  had  been  so  successful  with  Jacob 
Leder frank,  in  the  firm  of  Beauvais  &  Co.,  would 
now  turn  his  back  upon  the  son  as  he  was  going 
into  young  manhood?  A  disturbing  blackness 
seemed  to  envelop  Paul,  and  he  felt  dizzy. 

"Come,  Paul,"  said  Alfred,  as  he  appeared 
around  a  cluster  of  rose-bushes  with  rod  and  fish- 
ing tackle,  "this  is  a  fine  day  to  fish  below  the  great 
forest  belt.  Victor  has  gone  on  with  the  other 
boys." 

"Can't  to-day,  Al.  I'll  take  a  gallop  across 
country,  instead.  I'm  not  up  to  myself  this  morn- 
ing." " 

143 


HIS  MOTHER  UNDERSTOOD         143 

"You  do  look  frowsy — you  stuck  too  long  in  the 
library  last  night." 

Paul  made  no  comment.  He  remembered  regret- 
fully that  he  had  betrayed  his  own  unhappiness, 
and  casting  a  quick  glance  at  his  brother,  wondered 
if  he  knew. 

"All  right,  then,  I'll  go  on  without  you  this 
time." 

"Do,  Al,  for  I  don't  feel  like  going.  I'll  go  some 
other  time." 

"As  you  say.  Since  I  planned  the  trip  on  the 
river,  I  shall  go.  I  would  rather  stay  and  ride  with 
you,  though,  and  had  the  boys  not  gone  on,  I'd 
beg  off  and  go  with  you." 

Alfred  ran  and  leaped  over  the  hedge,  and  was 
soon  lost  to  view. 

Paul  turned  his  thoughts  inward  again.  The 
main  support  of  his  foundation  had  been  wrenched 
out,  it  seemed  to  him — at  the  time  he  needed  a 
father,  that  father  was  lacking  in  sympathy;  and, 
feeling  deeply  his  loss  as  irretrievable,  he  became 
disconsolate.  From  the  moment  of  his  earliest 
recollection,  he  had  dreamed  of  the  day  when  he 
would  go  into  the  factory  offices  and  work  with 
his  father.  It  was  his  highest  ambition  to  be  near 
this  ideal  man  of  his  childhood,  and  learn  the  busi- 
ness from  him.  Was  he  not  this  man's  heir? — the 
first-born,  entitled  to  take  up  where  the  man  laid 
down?  But  would  his  father  want  him  now? 
Would  not  his  questions  annoy  father,  and  widen 


144  THE   INVADER'S   SON 

the  breach?  Sick  at  heart,  he  quitted  the  veranda 
where  he  had  been  standing,  and  hurried  into  the 
shaded  paths  of  the  garden  at  the  rear  of  the  old 
Chateau,  there  to  ponder  and  to  fathom  his  misery. 

Below  the  spring  waters  of  the  Oise  gurgled  on 
past  willow-ribbed  banks,  and  white-capped  clouds 
shifted  swiftly  across  the  French-blue  skies.  Down 
in  the  village — since  the  founding  of  Beauvais  & 
Co.,  rapidly  growing  into  a  young  city — the  voices 
of  merry  tradesmen  were  wafted  up  to  the  lonely 
youth,  as  he  walked  slowly  through  the  network 
of  paths.  A  young,  clumsily- feathered  thrush 
floundered  awkwardly  ahead  of  him,  uttering  cries 
of  distress  as  he  approached.  Swiftly  the  mother 
bird  intervened  and  chirped,  encouraging  it  until 
her  baby  gained  the  mastery  of  his  wings.  An  old 
squirrel  scampered  uneasily  between  him  and  her 
frisky  twins.  The  proud  little  bantam  ruffled  her 
feathers  and  became  unduly  excited  for  the  safety 
of  her  chicks.  Thus  nature  and  her  creatures,  one 
and  all,  depended  upon  mother  for  succor  in  the 
hour  of  trouble.  Paul,  keen  in  perception,  did  not 
fail  to  catch  the  significance  of  the  lessons  before 
him  and  halted  as  his  countenance  brightened.  The 
balmy  air  was  permeated  with  the  song  of  the  liv- 
ing— hope  and  triumph  were  all  about  him.  Why 
droop  in  such  surroundings  when  he,  too,  could 
go  to  one  for  sure  counsel? 

And  already  she  was  coming  towards  him. 
From  her  bower  of  wistaria  at  the  upper  end  of 


HIS  MOTHER  UNDERSTOOD         145 

the  garden,  she  had  marked  his  uncertain  step, 
and,  on  drawing  nearer,  was  pained  to  note  sad- 
ness written  on  his  face. 

"What  is  it,  Paul?"  she  pleaded  anxiously,  lay- 
ing her  hand  on  his  arm. 

Never  before  had  she  seen  his  brow  troubled  in 
serious  meditations.  He  was  so  boyish  and  gay 
that  she  could  scarcely  believe  he  was  troubled, 
while  scarcely  on  the  border-line  of  young  man- 
hood. She  knew  that  eighteen  years  had  come  and 
gone  since  he  lay  for  the  first  time  in  a  wicker- 
basket  in  the  open,  kicking  his  bare  heels  in  the 
summer  sunshine,  but  only  now  could  she  realize 
that  stern  accountability  had  claimed  him,  and  that 
he  wrestled  with  some  problem  or  disappointment 
which  tried  his  soul. 

The  young  man  was  confused.  He  was  not  pre- 
pared for  his  mother's  direct  question,  and  an- 
swered haltingly. 

"I  was  just  going  to  you." 

"Then  you  were  thinking  of  me,  Paul,  in  your 
need,"  she  asked  proudly,  for  Hermance  was  a 
true  and  wise  mother,  and  was  glad  that  her  boy, 
in  his  first  trouble,  should  seek  her. 

"Yes,  mother,  I  need  you." 

"Then  come.  We  shall  go  to  the  honeysuckle 
trellis,  where  we  may  be  alone." 

"Alfred  and  Victor  have  gone,"  said  Paul,  feel- 
ing a  glow  in  his  heart  with  the  first  touch  of  sym- 
pathy. 


I46  THE   INVADER'S   SON 

"Yes,  I  know.  But  even  when  we  are  alone, 
Paul,  it  is  sweet  to  make  certain  of  it."  Hermance 
waited  as  if  endeavoring  to  say  something  further, 
but  finished  with  the  commonplace  remark: 

"Then  we  shall  be  out  of  hearing  of  the  ser- 
vants." 

Madame  Beauvais  took  his  arm  and  led  him 
through  the  rose-splashed  arbors.  Her  step  was 
light  and  airy,  and  a  bright  spot  mounted  each 
cheek.  She  had  begun  her  great  adventure  with 
this  lad,  and,  while  next  to  him  she  loved  her  hus- 
band, when  she  found  Paul  neglected  or  hurt,  she 
was  ready  to  come  to  his  aid  with  a  pride  and 
strength  of  resolution  that  distinguish  the  French 
woman  above  all  other  nationalities.  And 
the  while  her  ears  were  open  to  the  song  of  the 
birds,  and  her  spirits  responded  to  the  gaiety  of 
spring,  she  walked  along  with  her  son,  hoping 
that  she  might  be  able  to  correct  this  thing  that 
had  come  into  his  life — should  it  be  wrong;  if 
right,  that  she  might  clear  the  vista  of  his  future. 

The  large  bunches  of  red  and  white  blossoms 
that  hung  overhead  brushed  against  mother  and 
son  as  they  passed  by,  leaving  glistening  drops  of 
dew  on  their  cheeks.  The  mother  reached  only  to 
her  son's  shoulders.  He  was  big  enough  and 
strong  enough  to  have  carried  her.  She  looked 
into  his  handsome,  soft-skinned,  open  face,  and 
searched  his  deep  blue  eyes  that  dropped  a  steady, 
trustful  gaze,  and  reached  up  and  smoothed  back 


HIS  MOTHER  UNDERSTOOD         147 

his  light,  brown  locks.  She  knew  he  was  yearn- 
ing for  help.  She  could  almost  read  his  thoughts, 
for  she  had  watched  him  grow  with  greater  in- 
tentness  perhaps  than  any  other  mother,  except 
Mary  of  Nazareth.  She  rejoiced  at  his  elastic 
step,  his  erect  carriage.  She  was  proud  of  his 
young,  untried  muscles,  and  she  believed  that  he 
was  able  and  sufficiently  equipped  to  take  his  place 
in  the  sterner  arena  of  life. 

They  sat  under  the  arched  canopy  of  pink 
ramblers,  each  delicately-petaled  bloom  standing 
out  like  a  rosette  of  joy  to  beautify  the  retreat. 
The  son  plucked  one  of  the  gayest  buds,  and  fas- 
tened it  in  his  mother's  hair.  For  a  second  he 
ran  his  approving  eye  over  her  morning  gown,  and 
praised  her  as  the  most  beautiful  woman  he  had 
ever  seen. 

"Speak,  now  that  we  are  alone,"  she  said,  sym- 
pathy oozing  from  every  articulate  sound  of  her 
voice,  "not  even  your  sisters  will  be  up  at  this 
hour.  No  one  will  know." 

His  finely-cut  mouth  twitched  slightly,  and  his 
hand  sought  hers  for  strength. 

''What  has  hurt  you,  Paul,  my  son?" 

"Father." 

"Oh,  Paul!" 

"Yes;  though  I  must  have  been — at — at  fault — 
that's  what  I  want  to  ask  you,  mother." 

"Tell  me  all  about  it." 

"It  was  last  night  in  the  library.     Dr.  Joumon- 


148  THE   INVADER'S   SON 

ville  talked  with  father  about  the  International  Re- 
public. You  know  I'm  interested  in  this  subject, 
and  have  been  reading  about  it  for  months.  It 
was  projected  back  in  the  world  war  of  1914,  but 
like  all  other  things  that  come  to  civilization,  it 
has  been  dragged  on  these  years  without  gaining 
the  necessary  support.  I'm  interested  in  it,  as  I 
said,  and  when  Dr.  Joumonville  was  telling  about 
the  position  taken  yesterday  in  the  House  of  Com- 
mons in  England  regarding  a  bill  recently  intro- 
duced to  provide  ways  and  means  of  bringing 
about  an  expression  from  citizens — to  commit 
them  as  the  backbone  of  Britain  to  a  fixed  policy 
of  international  union.  This  is  really  the  first 
actual  step  in  the  right  direction — all  the  rest  has 
been  newspaper  talk.  I  don't  remember  how  I  got 
into  the  argument — but  father  had  opposed  the 
Doctor  on  something,  and  I  got  in  a  word  here 
and  there.  My  interest  must  have  swept  me  past 
father,  for  before  I  knew  it,  Dr.  Joumonville  was 
directing  his  remarks  at  me.  Then " 

"Go  on." 

"Then  father  accused  me  of  interrupting  him, 
and  ordered  me  to  go  to  bed,  speaking  in  angry 
tones." 

"And  then." 

"I  got  up,  apologized,  and  would  have  gone 
without  feeling  more  than  surprised  had  father 
not  said  cuttingly :  He  didn't  care  to  hear  further 
from  me;  that  my  self-importance  had  annoyed  him 


HIS  MOTHER  UNDERSTOOD         149 

— he  had  quite  enough  of  my  self-importance!  Of 
course,  I  went. 

Madame  Beauvais  dropped  her  eyes  to  the 
ground. 

"I  know,  mother,  something  is  wrong.  During 
the  last  vacations,  I  have  noticed  fathers  indif- 
ference towards  me — he  has,  on  some  occasions, 
purposely  ignored  me.  What  have  I  done?" 

This  simple  question  was  rilled  with  the  bitter- 
ness of  youth  at  its  first  full  discovery  of  the 
world's  cruelty.  Madame  Beauvais  still  hung  her 
head  and  pondered  her  reply.  How  was  she  to 
answer  this  fine  boy  at  her  side,  who  had  found 
the  mainstay  of  his  youth  lacking? — the  man  whom 
he  had  loved  as  father  not  there  to  encourage  him 
when  he  stepped  upon  the  solid,  troublesome  high- 
way of  manhood 

Lamely,  she  replied : 

"Perhaps  something  you  said  was  misconstrued 
by  your  father." 

"I  thought  so,  too,  but  I  was  ready  to  make  any 
explanation,  and  father  is  clever  enough  to  know 
when  something  is  intended  or  not.  How  could  he 
believe  me  so  rude  and  thoughtless  as  to  offend 
him?  I've  thought  it  out  for  hours — ever  since 
he  hurt  me  so  much,  and  I  cannot  for  the  life  of 
me  discover  my  fault.  My  questions,  the  ones 
that  got  me  in  and  supplanted  father  in  the  con- 
versation, were  leading — such  as  any  one  would 
have  asked.  I  don't  see  how  father  could  blame 


150  THE   INVADER'S   SON 

me  for  any  of  them,  and  I  am  sure  Dr.  Joumon- 
ville  would  support  me  in  my  claim  of  inno- 
cence." 

Hermance  knew  the  jealous  heart  of  her  hus- 
band had  finally  rebelled.  Paul  had  perhaps  shown 
keener  perceptions  of  the  subject  being  discussed, 
and  the  elder  man  had  recognized  that,  as  the  in- 
vader's son  had  gradually  outstripped  Victor  and 
Alfred,  he  would  now  go  on  and  shine  above  the 
father.  The  mother  was  prompted  to  tell  Paul 
the  entire  story  and  be  done  with  it,  but  the  aged 
priest  had  advised  her  to  wait.  So  again  she  par- 
ried with  the  main  issue  and  asked : 

"Did  you  speak  to  your  father  this  morning  be- 
fore he  went  to  work?" 

"I  did.  I  was  as  humble  as  I  knew  how  to  be — 
and  he  accepted  my  apology.  But,  mother,  even 
then  his  closing  words  drew  a  shadow  in  front  of 
me.  I  feel  that  I  have  something  to  combat,  and  it 
is  a  folly  not  to  know  what  it  is.  What  have  I 
done  to  this  man  I  have  loved  always?  Have  I, 
to  your  knowledge,  offended  him?" 

"No,  Paul.  You  have  done  nothing.  You  must 
not  mind  this,  son.  I  am  sure  your  father  will  not 
be  harboring  unpleasant  thoughts  of  the  incident 
last  night,  and  all  I  can  say  is  that  you  will  do  well 
to  avoid  the  slightest  controversy  with  him.  The 
business  has  been  exceedingly  worrying  on  your 
father  lately,  and,  no  doubt,  he  said  more  than  he 
intended." 


HIS  MOTHER  UNDERSTOOD         1 5 1 

"But,  mother,  I've  made  mistakes  before — mis- 
takes that  I  recognized,  and  when  I  went  to  father 
to  ask  forgiveness,  he  always  granted  my  request 
so  ungraciously — differently,  I  mean,  from  the  way 
he  has  treated  Victor  and  Alfred." 

"Oh,  yes,  Paul,  but  you  are  nearly  six  years 
older  than  Victor  and  Alfred,  and,  no  doubt,  your 
father  has  unintentionally  made  that  difference  in 
ages.  Now,  now,  my  boy,  you  must  learn  to  be 
brave." 

Paul  was  silent  for  a  moment.  He  knew  in- 
stinctively that  his  mother  was  not  permitted  to 
give  him  the  help  he  wanted.  He  did  not  know 
what  that  something  was,  but  out  just  in  front 
hung  a  chasm  into  which  he  might  stumble  at  any 
moment.  He  also  knew  that  his  mother  was  wor- 
ried. Did  she  fear  his  father,  and  for  that  reason 
refuse  to  help  him?  But  Paul  did  not  blame  her. 
He  could  see  that  she  ransacked  her  brains  to  find 
a  rope  to  throw  to  his  assistance,  and  he  decided 
to  wait  until  she  might  be  permitted  to  come  to  his 
aid. 

She  made  one  other  attempt  to  strengthen  him. 

"Paul,  have  you  ever  heard  that  fathers  often 
take  a  sudden  dislike  to  their  sons  when  they  reach 
the  first  days  of  manhood?" 

"I  don't — y-es.  Edouard  Comangier,  in  Paris, 
told  me  that.  He  said  his  father  suddenly  turned 
against  him  for  no  earthly  reason,  and  for  about 
two  years  was  not  at  all  as  he  had  been  before.  I 


152  THE   INVADER'S   SON 

never  thought  of  that,"  said  Paul,  catching  des- 
perately at  the  idea  to  drown  his  grief. 

"Well,  that  may  be  one  of  the  inexplainable  ec- 
centricities that  accounts  for  your  father's  actions." 

While  Paul  was  not  fully  satisfied,  he  admitted: 
"Probably  that  explains  it.  But  why  can  that  be 
in  father —  I  seem  to  remember  slights  from  him 
at  least  ten  years  back." 

"That  I  cannot  tell.  Perhaps  some  day  you  will 
find  out.  For  my  sake,  Paul,  pay  no  attention  to 
it.  That's  the  only  way.  Just  go  on  about  your 
work  or  pleasure.  Forget  he  has  hurt  you." 

Paul  promised.  He  thanked  his  mother  grate- 
fully, and  tried  to  make  her  feel  that  she  had 
helped  him. 

But  she  knew  she  had  not.  Some  day  all  could 
be  explained  to  him,  and  then  she  would  reap  the 
happy  reward  of  full  confidence,  the  suggestion  of 
which  had,  that  same  hour,  caused  her  to  be  dizzy 
with  happiness;  so  she  went  on  saying,  as  if  in- 
venting an  antidote  for  the  real  portion  she  should 
have  given  Paul :  "But  be  a  man,  Paul.  You  are 
now  facing  life  with  all  it  may  demand  in  you. 
You  cannot  afford  to  be  whimpering  over  insults 
or  pin-pricks.  Fear  no  man.  Let  no  man  influence 
you  with  what  he  says,  even  though  he  shouts  it 
from  house-tops  with  the  approval  of  the  master 
of  the  world.  Think  everything  out  for  yourself. 
Study  this  International  Republic.  Read  the  his- 
tory of  nations.  Go  to  Dr.  Joumonville  and  talk 


HIS  MOTHER  UNDERSTOOD         153 

with  him.  Seek  out  other  people  who  are  willing 
to  talk  with  young  men.  Make  friends.  Cultivate 
power  of  mind,  force  of  character,  and  God-fear- 
ing initiative."  Paul  awoke  in  response  to  her 
appeal.  All  the  force  she  would  have  in  her  son 
was  in  Paul  Beauvais,  and  it  needed  but  the  chance 
to  develop.  A  mother's  stirring  order  to  go  for- 
ward was  all  that  was  necessary  for  Paul.  He 
would  do  his  duty,  and  the  thirst  for  a  man's  part 
was  already  urging  him  to  hasten  to  take  up  the 
struggle. 

"Good  mother,"  he  said,  kissing  her  tenderly, 
"that's  just  the  talk  I  needed.  Something  told  me 
to  go  to  you,  and  I  had  started  when  you  came." 

"Will  you  always  come  to  me  when  you  are  in 
trouble?" 

He  said  "Yes"  so  resolutely  that  she  knew  he 
meant  it. 

"Paul,  don't  be  afraid  to  ask  me  any  questions 
you  may  wish,  and  at  any  time.  I'll  answer  you 
without  hesitation." 

Hermance  hoped  then  Paul  \vould  put  the  ques- 
tion direct  to  her  that  would  uncover  the  unhap- 
piness  of  his  youth.  But  the  boy  did  not  do  so; 
and  they  turned  again  to  walk  through  the  gar- 
dens. Their  conversation  was  changed  to  other 
things,  and  by  and  by  she  said: 

"What  are  you  going  to  do  this  morning?" 

"I  shall  gallop  across  country  unless  you  wish 
me  to  go  somewhere  with  you." 


154  THE   INVADER'S   SON 

"No,  ride,  Paul.  I  was  just  going  to  suggest  it. 
You  need  to  take  plenty  of  outdoor  exercise.  You 
will  complete  your  courses  in  Paris  this  winter, 
and  after  that  you  will  be  going  to  England  to 
college." 

"Has  father  consented  to  that?" 

"Oh,  yes,  I've  arranged  it.' 

"I  shall  ride  then.  This  morning  I'm  going 
through  the  hills  and  forests.  I  may  not  get  back 
until  afternoon.  At  four  I've  promised  to  take 
Grandfather  Joumonville  out  in  the  car.  To-day  is 
his  birthday — ninety  years  old,  you  know.  Then 
at  five  I  shall  call  for  you,  and  we  can  go  by  and 
pick  up  Father  Pelletier — he's  two  years  older  than 
Grandpa  Joumonville." 

Hermance  went  to  the  entrance  with  him,  and 
saw  him  mount  his  noble  horse,  Louis  XIV,  and 
dash  off  up  the  Heights  Road  towards  the  east. 
He  sat  firmly  in  the  saddle,  and  the  fine  figure,  lofty 
air,  the  bearing  that  commands  attention  and  leads 
where  men  will  or  no,  swelled  the  mother  pride  in 
her  bosom,  and  she  turned  her  face  to  the  Chateau 
again,  feeling  sorry  for  her  husband,  Raoul  Beau- 
vais. 


CHAPTER    XIV 

AN    EVENT 

PAUL'S  horse,  Louis  XIV,  knew  the  pace  his  young 
master  liked  best,  and  clearing  the  top  of  the 
heights,  he  sniffed  the  breezes  of  the  plains  and 
flat  country  beyond,  and  set  out  at  a  lively  canter 
for  the  forest  roads.  His  instinct  told  him  that  a 
strong  will  held  sway  in  the  quiet  man-boy  who 
sat  him  so  easily,  and  Louis  took  delight  in  obeying 
his  evenly  modulated  commands.  It  was  not  nec- 
essary to  touch  his  flanks  with  the  silver  spurs. 
He  knew  Paul  carried  no  whip;  but  on  and  on 
he  flew  like  a  winged-horse  of  Greece's  mythical 
days,  his  mane  and  tail  streaming  in  the  air,  and  his 
black  coat  glistening  like  a  meteor  of  polished 
ebony. 

Rider  and  horse  dashed  into  the  Robincourt  For- 
est. Mile  after  mile  of  whirling,  twirling  trees  dis- 
appeared behind  them,  until  the  dense  interior  was 
reached.  Here  Paul  liked  to  walk  his  steed  and 
listen  to  the  subdued  moaning  of  the  boughs.  Ac- 
cordingly he  drew  rein,  and  Louis  XIV  slackened 
pace,  blowing  out  a  gust  of  the  reserve  air  in  his 
powerful  lungs.  Straight  onward  for  two  miles 
there  was  not  a  bend  in  the  road.  The  overhang- 
ing density  of  foliage  made  the  opening  resemble 
a  tunnel  piercing  an  emerald  mountain.  Nowhere 

155 


156  THE   INVADER'S   SON 

did  the  sun  strike  through,  but  its  flood  sifted  in 
tremulous  shimmers  from  layers  of  green  pine 
needles  to  fagades  of  drooping  buckeye  leaves, 
scalloped  oak,  bristling  cedars,  and  myriads  of 
other  leaflets,  to  vanquish  gloom  and  lend  a  sooth- 
ing, kindly  light  to  the  traveler.  Paul  forgot  the 
world  of  study  and  toil,  and  whole-heartedly  ad- 
mired the  extravagant  glory  of  wild  nature.  There 
in  pristine  simplicity  was  peace.  Each  twig  and 
branch  performed  the  work  assigned,  and  grumbled 
not  that  the  station  was  low,  nor  boasted  when  it 
was  on  a  pinnacle  next  to  the  clouds.  And  here  and 
there,  where  hissing  half-ton  missiles  of  the  late 
war  had  ripped  avenues  through  the  thick  tops,  no 
complaint  was  flaunted — the  trunks  had  merely 
grown  big  rounded  bulges  to  cover  the  wounds; 
jagged,  splintered  stubs  of  saplings  had  spread  um- 
brellas, ribbed  with  a  thousand  willing  limbs,  to  con- 
ceal the  check  to  their  towering  magnificence.  The 
soft,  loam-cushioned  roadbed  muffled  the  tread  of 
the  horse's  feet.  The  young  man's  fancy  drifted 
hither  and  thither  among  the  noble  monarchs  of  the 
wood,  and  he  day-dreamed  the  fairy  tales  of  youth. 
Louis  XIV  caught  the  subtle  music  of  the  wilderness 
and  moved  along  by  short,  languid  steps,  with  his 
ears  up,  and  his  neck  craning  to  enable  him  to  hear 
and  see  all  that  might  be  hidden  in  the  sweet-scented 
shades. 

Suddenly  in  the  forward  end  of  the  hushed  lane, 
a  horse  bearing  a  hatless  rider  hove  in  sight.    The 


AN  EVENT  157 

horse  came  on  at  a  dead  run.  The  rider's  raven  hair 
swished  out  wildly  behind,  and  her  crimson  habit 
fluttered  over  the  back  of  the  runaway  charger.  She 
crouched  on  his  withers  and  looked  fixedly  the  way 
his  nose  was  pointing.  The  horse's  great  white  body 
squatted  low,  and  his  legs  sped  so  rapidly  that  he 
appeared  to  be  coming  on  fearful  wheels.  The  rider, 
a  slender  girl,  clutched  the  bridle  reins  with  both 
hands,  but  the  fright-maddened  animal  held  the  bit 
in  his  teeth,  and  came  on  like  a  bolt  hurled  from 
some  terrible  mortar.  Would  he  dart  into  the  dense 
forest  to  mangle  himself  and  rider  against  a  tree,  or 
would  she  be  thrown  and  killed  as  he  ran  ? 

The  invader's  son  looked  on  for  a  moment  with 
alarm,  and  then  planned  quickly  to  rescue  the  girl. 
He  swung  Louis  XIV  out  of  the  way.  Had  he  at- 
tempted to  bar  the  road,  he  would  have  sent  the  on- 
coming horse  out  of  his  course  among  the  gnarled 
trunks  to  certain  death.  But  he  waited  on  the  road- 
side, and  on  and  on  the  runaway  came,  the  cloaked 
hum  of  the  horse's  hoofs  sounding  like  the  roaring 
of  a  waterfall. 

Paul  could  see  the  girl's  face.  It  was  as  white 
as  marble,  but  her  brow  was  knitted  in  determina- 
tion, and  she  sat  steadily  in  her  saddle,  resolved  to 
ride  the  infuriated  beast  until  he  stopped.  Paul's 
horse  stood  on  his  hind  legs  and  snorted.  When 
the  whirlwind  passed,  Louis  laid  his  ears  back  and 
gave  chase.  Paul  pulled  him  to  the  right  side  and 
loosened  the  reins. 


158  THE   INVADER'S   SON 

The  girl  cast  her  pursuer  one  quick,  grateful 
glance,  then  the  race  went  on —  How  would  it 
end? 

Soon  Louis  XIV  was  stretching  his  sleek  head 
close  by  the  right  hip  of  the  foaming  runaway.  His 
black  nose  crawled  up  inch  by  inch  until  it  rested 
stationary  near  the  girl's  elbow.  She  saw  it — the 
distended  nostrils,  the  sporting  gleam  in  the  large, 
lustrous  eyes, — then  the 'handsome  head  of  Louis 
lay  almost  in  her  lap.  She  took  courage.  The 
blood  came  again  in  her  lovely  face,  and  she  looked 
back  once  more. 

The  black  head  moved  once  more  in  steady  gains 
until  the  horses  ran  neck  to  neck.  Paul  saw  the 
crossing  not  two  hundred  yards  away,  and  made 
desperate  efforts  to  seize  the  runaway  horse's  bit. 
Louis  objected  to  that  proceeding,  and  prevented  his 
master  from  accomplishing  his  design.  And  just 
then  the  mouth-piece  snapped,  leaving  the  reins 
dangling  uselessly  in  the  girl's  hands.  She  shot  a 
helpless  look  at  Paul. 

"Free  your  foot  from  the  stirrup,"  Paul  shouted. 

Seeing  that  she  understood  and  obeyed,  he  thrust 
out  his  left  arm  and  lifted  her  deftly  on  to  his  own 
horse. 

Louis  XIV  jogged  down  to  a  walk,  then  stopped. 
Paul  held  her  safely  on  the  broad,  flat  pummel  of 
his  saddle,  and  they  watched  the  freed  horse  swing 
into  a  byway  at  the  crossing,  lose  his  footing,  fall, 
and  roll  entirely  over.  The  next  moment  he  was  up, 


AN  EVENT  159 

and  they  heard  the  clatter  of  his  feet  as  he  ran  out 
of  sight. 

"And  there  is  where  you  would  have  been  killed," 
said  Paul,  speaking  after  a  sigh  of  relief. 

''Yes,  and  you  have  saved  my  life." 

"Louis  XIV  helped  to  do  it." 

"Ah!  yes.     He's  a  beauty." 

Louis  looked  back  wonderingly  at  the  flaming 
addition  to  his  burden. 

''He's  asking  how  I  got  here!"  she  exclaimed, 
laughing  merrily. 

"Oh,  he  knows.  Didn't  you  know  how  closely  he 
crowded  up  to  your  side.  It  made  him  mad  when 
I  persisted  in  trying  to  catch  the  bridle — he  wanted 
me  to  pick  you  off  at  once.  He  really  gave  me  the 
idea." 

She  smoothed  Louis'  arched  neck,  and  began  to 
breathe  with  more  ease. 

"I  was  frightened,  though,"  she  said  with  a  little 
shiver. 

"I  thought  of  the  crossing,  and,  as  you  saw  by 
what  happened,  I  snatched  you  off  in  the  nick  of 
time." 

"Yes,  you  did  it  neatly — how  fortunate  you  were 
coming  this  way." 

"I  ride  here  often,"  he  said. 

"Now  that  I'm  safe,  how  am  I  to  get  home?" 

"Why,  I  shall  take  you  home,"  said  Paul,  sur- 
prised that  she  should  have  asked  the  question. 
"Perhaps,  Mademoiselle,  you  will  tell  me  your  name 


160  THE   INVADER'S   SON 

— and  where  you  live.     My  name  is  Paul  Beau- 
vais." 

"My  name  is  Yvonne  de  Robincourt,"  she  replied, 
looking  at  him  full  in  the  face  for  the  first  time — 
and  she  was  very  near  him.  Paul  was  not  conscious 
that  he  still  held  her  tightly  to  the  pummel  of  his 
saddle,  and  she  only  at  that  moment  noticed  that 
she  was  grasping  his  left  wrist  with  both  her  tiny 
hands.  Her  wealth  of  hair  also  lay  in  wavy  folds 
over  his  shoulder. 

They  blushed. 

Paul  slipped  off  the  horse  and  helped  her  into 
the  saddle  from  her  perch,  before  speaking. 

"Monsieur  Pierre  de  Robincourt  is  your  father 
— and  this  is  his  forest?" 

"Yes,"  she  replied,  "and  Raoul  Beauvais  is  your 
father.  I  know  him.  He  and  my  father  are 
friends." 

"Yes,  mademoiselle,  and  I  have  seen  your  father 
twice.  My  father  often  speaks  of  him." 

"This  is  an  odd  introduction  for  their  children," 
she  said,  laughing  and  looking  at  her  rescuer 
again. 

"The  meeting  is  odd  enough,"  he  said,  also  laugh- 
ing, "but  our  parents  will,  no  doubt,  excuse  the 
irregularity." 

"Quite;  mamma  and  papa  will  be  grateful,  and 
I — I  cannot  find  words  to  thank  you." 

Yvonne  beamed  on  him  prettily,  and  brushed  her 
hair  free,  so  that  it  fell  over  her  back.  The  tips 


161 

spread  out  in  liberal  wavelets  on  Louis  XIV's  glossy 
coat. 

Paul  shortened  the  straps,  placed  her  foot  in  his 
stirrup,  then  taking  the  reins  from  over  the  horse's 
head,  he  turned  about  and  started  towards  her 
home,  walking  by  her  side. 

"What  are  you  doing?"  she  asked. 

"I'm  starting  home  with  you." 

"It's  too  bad  you  must  walk." 

"But  this  is  a  glorious  place.  I  have  often  walked 
and  led  my  horse  while  passing  this  way." 

"I  shall  walk,  too,"  she  said  gayly,  and  put  out 
her  hand  to  be  assisted  to  the  ground. 

Paul  nonchalantly  gathered  her  up  and  set  her 
feet  on  the  earth,  as  he  would  have  done  his  young- 
est sister.  She  did  not  struggle  foolishly  in  his 
strong  grasp,  but  accepted  it  as  a  matter  of  course. 
She  had  asked  for  assistance,  and  he  gave  it  gener- 
ously and  effectually,  without  the  least  timidity. 

A  little  slyly  she  peered  up  into  his  frank,  hon- 
est face.  He  was  not  so  terrible  looking  as  her 
mother  had  said  most  young  men  were — not  at  all 
rude  and  boorish.  Really  he  seemed  quite  as  nice 
as  any  of  her  girl  friends — only,  of  course,  he  was 
a  young  man,  big  and  tall,  erect,  strong,  handsome. 
For  the  time  being  she  forgot  all  about  her  father's 
fine  horse  she  had  stolen  out  for  a  ride.  This  ex- 
perience was  a  rare  treat — after  the  frightful  run- 
away. Had  she  not  begged  her  mother  to  let  her 
see  a  young  man,  and  talk  with  him  just  once.  She 


1 62  THE   INVADER'S   SON 

remembered  some  small  boys,  but  that  was  long  ago. 
She  had  reached  the  age  of  sixteen  now,  and  felt 
different  than  she  did  when  she  played  with  dolls — 
doubtless  the  boys  had  changed,  too.  Anyway,  she 
did  want  to  see  for  herself.  In  most  things  mother's 
word  was  not  questioned;  but  why  should  both 
father  and  mother  want  her  to  be  handled  with  so 
much  care.  Her  mother  had  made  her  believe  all 
sorts  of  horrid  things  about  young  men.  It  was 
not  true  that  all  of  them  were  so  bad,  for  here  was 
one  in  this  great  forest  who  was  not  at  all  horrid. 
He  had  borne  her  in  front  of  him  on  a  horse,  and 
could  have  run  away  with  her — but  he  did  nothing 
of  the  kind.  She  immediately  made  up  her  mind 
that  she  liked  Paul,  and  she  was  glad  that  he  was 
going  home  with  her.  She  would  show  her  father 
and  mother  that  this  young  man  was  an  exception 
to  their  ideas  of  the  race. 

Paul  was  not  shackled  with  all  this  elaboration, 
for  no  one  had  set  him  against  girls.  In  fact,  he 
rather  liked  them — or  imagined  he  would  like  them. 
His  sisters  were  deliciously  sweet,  and  the  plainly 
dressed  peasant  girls  all  seemed  to  be  kind  and  good. 
He  had  always  watched  curiously  the  girls  he  saw, 
whether  they  were  rich  or  poor,  clad  in  silks,  or 
gowned  in  coarse  cotton.  They  had  about  them  a 
charm  he  could  not  explain,  and  yet  he  had  never 
dared  speak  to  one.  He  had  been  too  busy  with  his 
studies.  Therefore,  he  ran  his  eyes  over  Yvonne 
from  head  to  foot  with  a  quiet  calmness  that  sat- 


AN  EVENT  163 

isfied  him.  A  quick  conviction  settled  in  his  mind 
that  this  was  a  rare  specimen  of  all  the  girls  he  had 
seen;  and  yet  he  had  been  to  school  in  Paris  and 
might  have  been  more  versed  in  femininity  had  he 
so  chosen.  He  walked  on  silently  for  a  few  paces, 
feeling  Louis'  warm  nose  touching  his  hand  now 
and  again,  and  wondering  where  to  pick  up  the  con- 
versation. At  last  he  said: 

"You  ride  often,  Mademoiselle  Yvonne,  and  ride 
well." 

"Do  I  ? — mamma  and  papa  scold  me  for  running 
away  on  the  horses,  and  I  shall  be  in  their  disfavor 
this  time." 

"Then  you  were  taking  a  ride  without  their 
knowledge?" 

"Yes;  that  was  papa's  big  horse  and  he  is  very 
vicious,  but  I  was  not  afraid  of  him  until  he  began 
to  run." 

"What  caused  him  to  run,"  Paul  asked,  glancing 
over  her  carefully  again  to  reassure  his  first  im- 
pression. 

"Oh,  he  was  frightened.  The  mail  air-ship  passed 
over,  and  the  engineer,  or  someone,  carelessly 
dropped  a  large  tin  box  of  some  sort.  It  fell  just 
in  front  of  Dante  and  burst  with  a  terrific  report. 
He  began  immediately  to  run  for  his  life.  Poor 
fellow!  It  wasn't  altogether  his  fault." 

"What  will  Dante  do?"  asked  Paul. 

"Oh,  he'll  go  home  after  a  while.  He  some- 
times gets  away  from  papa,  and  he  always  comes 


164  THE   INVADER'S   SON 

home  at  his  leisure.  He  never  will  hurry,  though 
he'll  come  in  before  it's  dark." 

"Where  do  you  usually  ride?" 

"In  the  fields  at  home.  I  came  to  the  wood  this 
morning,  because  I  was  tired  seeing  the  same  things 
all  the  time." 

Yvonne  looked  about  her  at  the  profuse  sylvan 
growths,  and  continued: 

"It  must  be  grand  to  be  a  man  and  go  wherever 
you  wish." 

Her  sparkling  black  eyes  sought  his  in  a  kind  of 
wistful  inquiry — how  was  it  being  a  man  anyway? 
— she  seemed  to  ask. 

"I  suppose  we  do  enjoy  some  things  that  you  can- 
not. Still,  I  don't  know.  I  don't  know  very  much 
about  girls." 

"Don't  you?"  she  asked.  "That's  funny.  Mamma 
always  told  me  that  the  trouble  with  most  young 
men  is  they  know  too  many  girls.  Of  course,  I 
don't  know  what  men  do  except  papa.  You  are  the 
first  young  man  I  have  ever  spoken  to.  You  are 
just  like  the  young  men  in  the  story-books.  Mamma 
has  insisted  that  story-book  young  men  are  not  real 
— just  got  up  to  mislead  young  girls." 

Paul  laughed  at  her  childish  simplicity. 

"Well,  I'm  a  real  young  man.  I  have  emerged 
from  no  fiction  book  to  dally  with  your  imagination, 
and  no  fairy  is  going  to  appear  before  us,  wand 
in  hand,  and  cause  me  and  Louis  XIV  to  float  away 
in  space." 


AN  EVENT  165 

**Oh!  I'm  glad,"  she  said,  with  a  frankness  that 
was  very  pleasing  to  him. 

"I'm  certainly  glad  to  have  been  the  means  of  dis- 
illusioning you." 

"I  wasn't  deceived.  I  knew  there  must  be  nice 
young  men  in  the  world — I  didn't  believe  mamma. 
I  told  her  so,  too.  If  there  never  had  been  any 
nice  young  men,  how  could  people  write  such 
books?" 

"What  books  do  you  read?" 

"Oh,  mamma  has  given  me  some  very  nice  books, 
but — sh!  I've  found  a  lot  of  papa's  up  in  the  gar- 
ret, and  I  took  them  out  one  at  a  time.  They  are 
ever  so  much  more  interesting  than  the  ones  mamma 
buys  for  me." 

For  more  than  an  hour  they  walked  along  side 
by  side,  the  tips  of  her  fingers  resting  on  his  arm, 
while  they  two  talked  as  naturally  as  children.  They 
had  become  comfortably  acquainted.  Some  of  the 
things  they  told  each  other  were  simple  and  amus- 
ing. Other  things  were  quaint  and  sweet,  because 
they  came  right  out  of  pure,  unspoiled  hearts.  Just 
as  they  began  to  see  the  massive  stone  palace  of  the 
de  Robincourts  through  the  first  outward  opening 
in  the  forest  Paul  said  in  the  same  unaffected 
strain : 

"Mademoiselle  Yvonne,  I  want  you  to  be  my 
sweetheart — will  you?" 

"Why,  yes!"  she  exclaimed  gleefully — "just  like 
my  pretty  story-book  says." 


166  THE   INVADER'S   SON 

"I  shall  speak  to  your  father  promptly,"  added 
Paul,  becoming  very  grave. 

"Papa  is  gruff,  you  know,  and  he  says  rude  things 
sometimes.  You  mustn't  mind  him,  though.  Leave 
that  to  me.  I  shall  have  my  way.  You  know  I 
wheedle  him  into  my  views  after  a  time." 

As  they  drew  near  the  house  there  was  great  com- 
motion. Dante  had  just  come  in  limping  with 
Yvonne's  little  saddle  hanging  in  shreds  under  him. 
Both  father  and  mother  were  distracted.  The 
horses  were  then  being  brought  for  men  to  ride  out 
in  search  for  her  torn  and  bleeding  body,  when  lo! 
they  saw  her  coming,  quietly  chatting  with  this 
strong  young  man. 

"Yvonne,"  cried  both  father  and  mother,  as  they 
ran  to  meet  her. 

"My  child,  my  child,"  went  on  the  mother  in  the 
same  hysterical  way  that  mothers  have  always  done. 
"I  feared  you  were  dead !  Oh !  I'm  so  glad  you're 
safe." 

Stern  Monsieur  de  Robincourt  also  joined  in, 
laying  aside  his  dignified  coldness  for  the  moment. 
"My  daughter,  my  only  child,  never  give  me  such 
a  shock  again.  Promise  me,  you  will  never  run 
away  on  a  horse  again." 

Without  waiting  for  her  promise,  he  turned  to 
Paul,  who  stood  by,  touched  by  the  scene. 

"My  young  friend,  it  is  you  perhaps  who  saved 
my  child.  I  hasten  to  thank  you." 

"Yes,    papa,    Monsieur    Beauvais — he's    Raoul 


AN  EVENT  167 

Beauvais'  son — saved  my  life.  Dante  ran  away 
with  me,  and  Monsieur  Paul  rode  swiftly  by  my 
side  and  lifted  me  off  on  to  his  beautiful  horse.  A 
real  romantic  rescue,  papa!'' 

"We  thank  you  again,"  said  both  parents  in  one 
voice,  extending  their  hands. 

"Come,  we  shall  go  into  the  house,"  said  the 
father.  "And  you  are  Raoul  Beauvais'  son  ? — Your 
father  and  I  are  friends." 

Paul  was  kindly  received  in  the  great  chateau  of 
the  De  Robincourts.  His  hosts  detained  him  until 
after  the  mid-day  meal,  and  he  was  shown  through 
the  building;  the  gallery,  the  library,  and  made  feel 
welcomed.  Monsieur  de  Robincourt  took  delight 
in  pointing  out  where  a  German  shell  had  plowed 
through  the  outer  walls,  and  tearing  its  way  into  the 
gallery,  pinned  the  large  painting  of  the  great  grand- 
father to  the  thick,  inner  wall  of  solid  masonry,  and 
there  stuck  half-buried  and  unexploded. 

"That  was  as  far  as  it  could  go,"  said  Pierre  de 
Robincourt  proudly.  "When  it  struck  my  grand- 
sire,  it  was  too  much.  I  shall  never  remove  it — it 
is  a  testimony  that  shall  continue  in  this  home." 

When  Paul  finally  managed  to  excuse  himself  to 
return  home,  he  said : 

''Monsieur  de  Robincourt,  I  wish  to  speak  with 
you  privately." 

"Certainly,  my  son,"  the  man  said,  assuming  a 
quizzical  expression  as  he  led  the  way  into  the 
library. 


i68  THE   INVADER'S   SON 

"Paul,  my  son,  speak — has  your  father  sent  a 
message?" 

"No,"  said  Paul,  hesitating  before  proceeding 
further.  "I  wish  to  make  a  request.  1  want  your 
consent  for  your  daughter,  Mademoiselle  Yvonne, 
to  be  my  sweetheart." 

A  great  change  overcast  the  severe  man's  coun- 
tenance, but,  in  spite  of  himself,  he  smiled. 

"She  is  very  young,  my  son — and  you  are  young. 
I  shall  advise  with  your  father  and  give  you  my 
reply  when  you  are  older." 

The  polite  finality  in  De  Robincourt's  voice  told 
Paul  that  the  interview  was  ended,  and  he  bowed 
low  and  said: 

"I  thank  you,  sir.  I  shall  endeavor  to  be  worthy 
of  your  consideration  when  the  proper  time  has 
arrived." 

A  servant  stood  at  the  marble  entrance,  holding 
Louis  XIV,  now  freshly  groomed  and  ready  for  the 
gallop  home.  Paul  bid  them  adieu,  but  Yvonne 
could  not  be  found.  At  last  they  observed  her  run- 
ning towards  the  horse,  carrying  several  large,  white 
roses. 

"What  will  Yvonne  do  next?"  exclaimed  the 
mother,  folding  her  hands  in  mock  despair. 

But  they  followed  out  to  the  gate,  laughing  as 
they  watched  Yvonne  fasten  three  roses  in  Louis' 
foretop.  The  fourth  one,  the  prettiest  of  all,  she 
gave  to  Paul. 

The  young  man  sprang  into  his  saddle,  waved  his 


AN  EVENT  169 

hat,  and  gave  his  horse  the  word  to  go.  In  a  minute 
more  he  had  disappeared  in  the  peaceful  bosom  of 
the  forest. 

When  he  came  in  sight  of  the  Chateau  Morestier, 
the  chauffeur  was  rolling  out  the  automobile.  Paul 
dismounted  quickly,  and  at  once  got  in  the  car  to 
go  after  Dr.  Joumonville. 

"Tell  mother  I  shall  be  back  at  five  to  get  her  to 
ride  with  me.  She  and  I  can  then  take  with  us 
Father  Pelletier." 

The  servant  hastened  to  deliver  the  message  be- 
fore leading  Louis  XIV  to  his  stall. 

Paul  preferred  to  drive  the  car  himself.  He  put 
his  hand  to  the  wheel,  and  silently  the  long  machine 
glided  down  the  hill,  and,  with  a  few  puffs  of  the 
engine,  mounted  over  the  high  bridge.  A  wasted, 
wizened  old  man  on  crutches  waited  at  his  gate, 
certain  that  he  would  not  be  disappointed.  On  the 
minute  by  St.  Joseph's  clock,  Paul  placed  Dr.  Jou- 
monville by  him  on  the  seat,  and  began  threading 
the  little  crooked  streets  of  Ste.  Genevieve,  for  that 
was  the  kind  of  ride  the  old  Doctor  liked  best,  since 
he  was  no  longer  able  to  go  about  and  see  the  one- 
time village — now  grown  into  a  prosperous  manu- 
facturing town.  But  the  village  part  was  the  same, 
and  would  always  be,  and  the  few  gray-haired  peo- 
ple who  remained  from  the  ante-bellum  days  pre- 
ferred it  to  the  stylish,  modern  additions  on  the 
hillsides. 

The  Doctor  was  feeling  better  than  usual,  and 


170  THE   INVADER'S   SON 

asked  to  stay  and  ride  with  Father  Pelletier  and  Ma- 
dame Beauvais.  The  same  routes  were  taken  again 
by  the  four  friends,  and  the  same  bowings  and 
greetings  came  to  Paul  everywhere  they  went.  Some 
said:  "How  kind  of  him  to  take  the  old  people  for 
a  ride !"  Others  came  to  the  side  of  the  car  to 
speak  to  the  aged  priest  and  the  Doctor.  Madame 
Beauvais  also  received  her  share  of  good  greetings. 
She  was  as  popular  as  ever  with  the  village  people. 

That  night  when  the  stars  shone  and  the  fire- 
flies hovered  over  the  Oise,  Paul  and  his  mother 
clambered  to  the  top  of  the  Chateau,  and  he  led  her 
to  the  wide  stone  coping  that  served  as  a  seat.  He 
was  not  ashamed  to  tell  her  all  that  had  transpired 
in  the  Robincourt  Forest. 

And  again  Hermance  understood. 


CHAPTER  XV 

THE    FIRST    CHALLENGE 

JEALOUSY  is  the  most  treacherous  of  human  pas- 
sions. It  makes  men  blind  to  good  in  others ;  it  dis- 
torts and  demonizes  its  victims.  It  ruins  homes  and 
inspires  murders. 

"Jealousy  is  the  apprehension  of  superiority." — 
Shenstone. 

Raoul  Beauvais,  the  fine  young  man  of  the  old 
days,  the  brave  soldier,  the  good  husband,  became 
hopelessly  entangled  in  the  meshes  of  jealousy.  It 
destroyed  his  reason  where  Paul  was  concerned.  It 
swept  him  on  and  on,  day  by  day,  until  he  hated 
Paul.  With  great  difficulty,  the  foster-father  re- 
strained himself  sufficiently  to  be  coldly  polite  and 
courteous. 

But  Paul  noted  his  manner  and  avoided  coming 
in  contact  with  him  as  much  as  possible.  It  was 
discouraging.  Paul  had  arrived  at  a  period  when 
youth  regards  life  as  a  panorama  of  glorious 
achievements  only  awaiting  his  advance  amid  flare 
of  trumpets.  To  be  confronted  at  such  a  heyday- 
time  with  opposition  from  the  father  in  the  home, 
presents  a  battle  front  quite  formidable  to  most 
young  men.  Sooner  or  later,  the  illusion  may  be 
unmasked,  but  it  were  better  if  the  father  should 
be  the  last  man  to  volunteer  as  the  villain. 

171 


i/2  THE   INVADER'S  SON 

Jealousy  had  placed  green  goggles  on  Raoul 
Beauvais,  and  he  saw  in  Paul  the  Jacob  of  Israel, 
scheming  and  waiting  to  deprive  Alfred  and  Victor 
of  their  birthrights — and  he  believed  Hermance 
would  be  the  Rebecca  to  support  Paul  in  his  silly 
attempts  to  ride  over  the  heads  of  his  brothers. 

Thus  insanely  arrayed  against  Paul,  the  father 
determined  to  put  Alfred  forward  as  the  heir  and 
strong  arm  of  the  family.  Victor  had  taken  to 
music.  It  was  likely  that  his  tastes  would  all  be 
centered  in  that  art — then  a  share  of  the  fortune 
would  suffice.  The  daughters  would  be  wedded  in 
due  course,  leaving  the  way  clear  and  wide  to  his 
favored  son.  Therefore,  he  hedged  about  Alfred, 
while  planning  for  the  future,  every  comfort  and  ad- 
vantage that  could  insure  towards  making  him  a 
gentleman  or  a  great  man  of  business.  Alfred  was 
ignorant  of  his  father's  ambitious  plottings. 

With  this  idea  fully  developed,  Mr.  Beauvais  lost 
no  time  in  declaring  himself.  One  evening,  shortly 
after  the  incident  in  the  Robincourt  Forest,  which 
Hermance  had  counselled  Paul  to  keep  to  himself 
for  the  present,  the  master  of  the  Chateau  Morestier 
requested  the  attendance  of  his  wife  and  Alfred  in 
the  library.  Beauvais  had  selected  that  particular 
evening  because  he  knew  all  the  children  were  in- 
vited to  a  ball  at  the  residence  of  Madame  Villiers, 
— the  first  of  a  series  of  functions  to  be  given  for 
the  entertainment  of  young  girls  and  boys  of  the 
best  families.  He  would  detain  Alfred  a  little  while, 


THE  FIRST  CHALLENGE  1 73 

after  which  he  could  join  his  brothers  and  sisters. 

''Have  the  children  gone?"  asked  Beauvais  rather 
brusquely  when  his  wife  and  Alfred  entered. 

"Yes,"  replied  Hermance,  "Paul  and  Victor  have 
gone  with  the  girls." 

"I  shall  not  keep  you  long,  Alfred,"  said  the 
father  in  a  reassuring  voice  which  sounded  strange 
to  the  mother. 

After  a  little  hesitation,  he  continued,  and,  while 
speaking,  kept  a  watchful  eye  on  Madame  Beauvais. 

"I  wish  to  make  known  to  you  my  anxiety  for  the 
future  of  our  family,  and  to  unfold  for  your  con- 
sideration certain  conclusions  I  have  reached  after 
most  careful  reflection.  I  know  you  will  meet  my 
views,  and  accept  them  as  the  best  solution  of  the 
problem." 

Madame  Beauvais  felt  a  lump  begin  to  rise  in  her 
throat. 

"Hermance,  you  are  aware,  no  doubt,  that  our 
boys  have  different  talents.  Paul  will  probably  be- 
come a  professional  man — a  lawyer  or  a  politician. 
He  seems  inclined  to  leadership,  and  I  assume  some 
such  calling  would  suit  him  immensely,  and  he  may 
do  well,  if  forwardness  and  brazenness  count  for 
anything.  Victor  will  be  a  musician.  A  portion  of 
our  fortune  to  each  of  these  two  boys,  and  to  our 
daughters,  will  end  our  responsibility  in  that  direc- 
tion. It  is  probable  Paul  would  sanction  all  I  am 
saying." 

This  last  remark  was  tacked  on  to  appease  the 


174  THE   INVADER'S   SON 

mother,  who  began  to  show  indications  of  oppo- 
sition. 

"Alfred,"  he  continued,  turning  to  the  boy,  "you 
have  been  doing  considerable  painting.  Well,  that's 
all  right  in  a  way — pleasant  pastime — but,  of  course, 
you  intend  it  as  a  hobby.  I'm  sure  you  are  cut  out 
for  sterner  work. 

"At  all  events,  I  have  selected  you  as  the  heir  to 
the  bulk  of  my  fortune,  and  the  representative  of 
our  family.  It  will  devolve  upon  you  to  take  my 
place  in  the  great  business  I  have  helped  to  build. 
Most  of  my  money  and  property  will  go  to  you. 
I  have  mentioned  portions  will  be  given  to  the  other 
children.  This  is  just,  and  I  intend  also  that  they 
shall  be  set  out  for  themselves,  so  you  will  have 
unhampered  sway  in  the  large  remainder.  You  will 
be  regarded  henceforth  as  the  important  branch  of 
the  family,  the  one  who  shall  command  obeisance 
from  the  others.  If  your  mother  concurs,  and  I 
know  she  will,  the  Chateau  Morestier  will  become 
yours.  To  you  and  through  you,  my  son,  I  look 
for  the  perpetuation  of  the  name  of  Beauvais.  You 
will  also  advance  the  family's  prestige. 

"You  are  very  young  to  be  called  upon  to  prepare 
for  the  leadership  of  the  family,  but  if  you  know  my 
decisions  and  your  responsibility,  you  will  work  with 
greater  zeal. 

"Of  late,  it  has  occurred  to  me  that  you  permit 
Paul  to  outdistance  you  to  a  great  extent.  You 
must  hold  your  own,  and  be  his  equal — or  peer.  In 


THE  FIRST  CHALLENGE  1 75 

college  do  not  take  a  back  seat.  On  all  occasions, 
come  out  and  display  yourself  to  advantage." 

"Don't  you  think,  dear,"  said  Madame  Beauvais, 
interrupting,  "that  you  and  I  had  better  talk  about 
these  things  and  lay  them  before  Alfred  when  he  is 
older?" 

"No;  I  insist  now  is  the  time,"  M.  Beauvais  said 
with  emphasis.  "Alfred  must  do  what  I  am  telling 
him,  and  when  he  knows  what  I  want,  he  will  be 
able  to  comply.  If  we  wait  until  he's  older,  the 
opportunity  may  have  slipped  by  him."  There  was 
also  a  hint  of  impatience  in  his  tones. 

"But,  father,  do  you  think  it's  entirely  fair  to  my 
brothers — to  Paul  especially?  He's  ever  so  much 
more  capable  than  I." 

"Now,  stop  right  there!  When  you  admit  such 
an  absurdity,  you  are  defeated  in  your  race.  Stop, 
I  say !  I  must  not  hear  it  from  you  again.  It's  that 
attitude  on  your  part  which  grieves  me — and  your 
mother,  I  trust; — that  general  acceptance  that  Paul 
'is  ever  so  much  more  capable'  than  you !  I  say  he 
is  not!  You  must  not  be  a  weakling.  You  are  a 
Beauvais.  He  is  not — not — not  your  equal,  if  you 
— if  you  will  make  it  so !" 

Mother  and  son  sat  helpless  under  this  seemingly 
unwarranted  tirade.  It  was  clear  M.  Beauvais  was 
unduly  excited. 

"One  other  subject  I  must  mention,  and  then  you 
may  go,  Alfred.  This  concerns  you  personally,  my 
son,  but  it  is,  nevertheless,  a  matter  of  much  import 


176  THE  INVADER'S  SON 

to  your  mother  and  me,  as  well.  In  your  success  or 
failure  in  this  last,  but  most  vital  step,  are  involved 
our  hopes  and  ambitions.  I  refer  to  your  marriage. 
You  are  young,  too  young,  to  have  serious  thoughts 
of  that  which  now  seems  far  removed,  but  I  may  not 
pass  this  opportune  moment  without  indicating  to 
you  my  preference.  You  can  then  mould  your  life 
to  suit  my  ideas,  which  will  be  yours,  if  you  are  a 
dutiful  son. 

"My  fortune  is  now  considerable,  and  it  is  in- 
creasing rapidly  each  year.  However,  the  greater 
the  personal  fortune  of  a  man,  the  greater  becomes 
his  power.  I  want  you  to  have  as  much  of  this 
world's  wealth  as  all  of  us  can  get  together  for  you. 

"Now,  Pierre  de  Robincourt  and  I  are  friends. 
I— 

A  smothered  exclamation  emanated  from  Her- 
mance,  and  she  covered  her  face  with  her  hands. 

"What  ails  you,  Madame  Beauvais?"  asked  the 
husband  with  heat. 

"I  have  something  to  say  to  you,  Raoul,  before 
you  discuss  that  further." 

"You  can  have  your  say  to  me  later.  I'm  keep- 
ing my  son  from  an  important  social  engagement 
to  hear  my  wishes,  and  you  and  I  can  always  go 
into  details  when  he  is  gone." 

Beauvais  lowered  the  key  of  his  voice  somewhat 
in  uttering  the  last  few  words,  so  as  to  suggest  that 
he  was  not  angry — only  in  earnest. 

"As   I   was   saying,   De   Robincourt  and   I   are 


THE  FIRST  CHALLENGE  1 77 

friends.  His  father  and  mine  were  friends  and 
chums  in  the  army  of  1870.  The  present  De  Robin- 
court  wealth  is  at  least  five  times  as  great  as  mine. 
Now  he  has  an  only  child,  a  beautiful  daughter  of 
about  your  age,  Alfred,  and  it  is  my  purpose  to 
make  her  your  wife.  I  am  sure  you  will  prefer  her 
above  all  others  when  the  time  comes." 

"But,  father." 

"Don't  interrupt.    Let  me  finish. 

"You  and  I,  my  son,  must  not  let  this  prize  escape 
us.  Yvonne  de  Robincourt  will  be  the  most  attrac- 
tive heiress  in  France  in  a  few  years,  and  if  we  can 
win  her  for  you,  Alfred,  you  will  be  the  most  envied 
man  in  the  country.  I  can  prepare  the  way  for  you. 
M.  de  Robincourt  expects  me  to  go  with  him  next 
week  to  spend  a  few  days  on  the  Lakes  of  the  Four 
Cantons  in  Switzerland,  and  I  shall  suggest  the  ar- 
rangement with  him  in  a  tentative  way,  and  ascer- 
tain his  views.  I'm  certain  of  his  approval,  but 
there  is  nothing  like  being  in  advance  with  every- 
thing. I  must  hook  this  fish  for  you  against  your 
coming  into  mature  manhood." 

Alfred  looked  foolish,  and  moved  uneasily  in  his 
chair.  His  hands  and  feet  seemed  very  much  in  the 
way. 

"I  have  sketched  the  canvas  for  you.  If  you  have 
imagination,  if  you  have  gift,  if  you  would  be  a 
great  man,  an  artist  after  my  own  heart,  fill  in  the 
colors — make  the  work  your  masterpiece  in  life. 
The  matter  is  now  in  your  hands." 


178  THE   INVADER'S   SON 

The  lad  was  dismissed,  after  being  cautioned  to 
maintain  sealed  lips  about  everything  that  had  been 
said,  or  might  come  up  from  time  to  time.  He  hur- 
ried off  to  the  ball  to  join  his  brothers  and  sisters, 
with  his  mind  gorged  with  ideas  which  were  dis- 
tasteful, and  with  responsibility  heaped  upon  him 
before  he  was  wise  enough  to  pick  and  choose  for 
himself. 

"My  dear  Hermance,"  said  Raoul  repentently,  "I 
must  apologize  for  my  abrupt  speech  to  you.  I  have 
never  been  guilty  of  such  a  thing  before,  and  hope 
another  occasion  shall  never  arise  when  I  shall  be 
compelled  to  be  firm  with  you.  You  shall  forgive 
me?  You  cannot  see  as  I  see.  You  are  a  woman. 
Sentimental  considerations  are  always  uppermost  in 
your  heart,  and  it  is  impossible  for  you  to  look  after 
the  material  welfare  of  our  children.  I  must  do  it. 
If  you  interrupt  me,  at  the  moment  I  cannot  avoid 
showing  impatience." 

"My  dear  Raoul,  you  have  spoken  wisely,  in  main, 
although  some  of  your  wishes  are  not  in  accordance 
with  my  way  of  thinking.  You  possess  the  power  to 
have  things  to  your  order,  and  I  shall  not  argue 
with  you.  It  would  mar  the  sweetness  of  life  we 
have  heretofore  lived.  There  is  one  thing,  however, 
above  the  others  you  mentioned,  that  I  wish  to  dis- 
cuss with  you.  I  refer  to  the  De  Robincourt  pro- 
posal." 

"Very  well." 

"I  have  not  had  an  opportunity  before  to-night 


THE  FIRST  CHALLENGE  1 79 

to  speak  to  you,  as  you  know — because  my  informa- 
tion has  only  come  to  me  this  week." 

"What  information?"  asked  Beauvais,  looking  up 
quickly. 

"Are  you  ready  to  hear  me  now  ?  I  am  quite  pre- 
pared to  lay  before  you  my  ideas  and  plans." 

"All  right;  I  shall  be  ready  in  a  few  minutes.  I 
want  to  read  my  private  letters.  You  may  remain 
until  I  have  finished,  if  you  like." 

Madame  Beauvais  seated  herself  at  the  table,  and 
began  to  thumb  a  magazine.  She  knew  very  well 
there  was  a  letter  from  M.  Pierre  de  Robincourt 
on  the  plate,  and  it  was  just  possible  it  might  con- 
tain information  likely  to  cause  unpleasantness  in 
the  Chateau  Morestier.  Therefore,  she  waited  to 
see  what  would  be  the  effect  of  the  message. 

"Oho!  here's  a  letter  now  from  De  Robincourt. 
He's  getting  anxious  to  be  going  off  to  Switzer- 
land. Well,  I  can't  go  until  next  week — business  is 
too  pressing." 

Hermance  trembled  slightly  as  he  tore  open  the 
envelope. 

There  was  no  mistake.  She  saw  the  color  slowly 
mount  to  his  temples. 

"And  you  knew  this,  Madame !"  he  snapped. 

Hermance  was  so  surprised  that  she  sprang  up 
as  if  there  had  been  an  explosion. 

"Sir,  I  know  not  to  what  you  refer, '  she  replied 
with  dignity. 

''Read  this,"  he  said,  throwing  her  the  letter. 


i8o  THE   INVADER'S   SON 

Hermance  sat  down,  calmly  smoothed  out  the 
crumpled  sheet,  and  read: 

"My  dear  Friend : 

"This  letter  is  the  outcome  of  an  incident  of  re- 
cent occurrence,  and  it  is  with  very  great  pleasure 
that  I  address  you  and  send  my  greetings. 

"By  the  will  of  Providence,  your  son,  Paul,  saved 
the  life  of  my  young  daughter,  Yvonne,  in  an  excit- 
ing runaway  in  my  forest.  The  same  day  he  and 
she  formed  a  liking  for  one  another,  and  he  has 
presented  his  compliments  to  me,  asking  that  I  agree 
to  the  relationship  of  sweethearts  between  him  and 
Yvonne. 

''My  child  is  too  tender  in  years  for  entertaining 
anything  so  serious,  but  your  son  has  made  a  deep 
and  lasting  impression  on  me  and  my  wife,  as  well 
as  Yvonne,  and  I  readily  give  my  consent  to  what- 
ever guarded  course  you  and  I  may  settle  for  our 
children  to  pursue. 

"You  will  honor  me  by  accepting  my  kind  re- 
gards, in  which  Madame  de  Robincourt's  would  be 
included.     We   express  our  esteem   for  you  and 
Madame  Beauvais,  and  await  your  pleasure. 
"Your  friend, 

"PIERRE  DE  ROBINCOURT." 
'To 

M.  Raoul  Beauvais, 

Chateu  Morestier." 

As  she  read,  Hermance  could  feel,  without  look- 
ing at  her  husband,  the  anger  which  shook  his  very 
being,  and  she  planned  what  she  would  say  as  she 
was  nearing  the  close  of  the  letter. 

"Yes,  Raoul,  I  have  known  this.    It  is  the  infor- 


THE  FIRST  CHALLENGE  181 

mation  I  would  have  conveyed  to  you  before  you 
spoke  to  Alfred.  It  is  one  of  the  inevitable  things 
in  life,  and " 

"Inevitable !  Yes !  the  inevitable.  Madame,  Paul 
planned  it  in  advance.  It  is  just  like  Paul.  He  is 
always  miles  ahead  of  anybody  else!  Madame,  it's 
not  right  that  my  children  should  be  supplanted  by 
this  upstart !" 

"Raoul!" 

"An  incident! — an  exciting  runaway!  Paul 
planned  the  life-saving  months  before." 

"That's  impossible,  Raoul,"  Hermance  said 
through  her  tears.  Then  she  told  him  briefly  how 
it  had  happened.  Raoul  paced  the  floor  like  a  tiger 
while  she  detailed  the  story  related  to  her  by  Paul. 

"Can  you  expect  me  to  believe  this?"  he  asked 
derisively.  "Is  not  Paul  capable 

"Shame  on  you,  man !  Are  you  suggesting  that 
De  Robincourt's  daughter  would  be  a  party  to  such 
deception — even  though  Paul  were  guilty?  You 
know  better." 

This  was  bringing  them  very  near  their  first 
quarrel.  Hermance  saw  it,  and  immediately  left  the 
room. 

M.  Beauvais  realized  his  mistake — but  was  still  in 
no  frame  of  mind  to  make  amends.  However,  he 
ran  after  Hermance,  and  tenderly  led  her  back  into 
the  library. 

"I  know  the  day  has  come,  Hermance.  You  have 
warned  me  recently.  You  warned  me  when  I  came 


1 82  THE   INVADER'S   SON 

back  after  the  war.  I  acknowledge  it.  I  can  no 
more  help  it  than  I  could  turn  stone  into  gold.  Try 
to  bear  with  me.  One  thing  let  us  agree  on — YOU 
AND  I  MUST  NOT  QUARREL.  I  declare  my- 
self to  you  now.  I  will  put  Alfred  higher  than  Paul, 
if  it  is  in  my  power.  The  promise  I  made  you  in 
the  beginning  was  that  I  would  keep  your  secret 
and  his  secret.  This  I  will  keep  sacred  to  the  end. 
Further  than  that  I  did  not  promise.  I  have  treated 
Paul  as  I  would  my  own  son.  He  has  now  devel- 
oped characteristics  of  the  race  of  people  my  an- 
cestors have  fought  and  I  have  fought,  and  you 
cannot  expect  me  to  sit  by  and  permit  him  to  pre- 
vail." 

"I  see  you  will  oppose  my  boy.  You  have  now 
declared  your  policy,  and,  at  the  same  time,  express 
the  wish  that  you  and  I  don't  quarrel.  Raoul,  my 
dear,  I  accept  that.  On  the  other  hand,  in  this  en- 
lightened age,  I  have  a  right  to  my  opinions,  and 
have  a  right,  under  the  laws  of  our  Republic,  to 
oppose  even  the  husband  I  love — therefore,  I  also 
declare  my  policy  in  this  matter  of  preference." 

"Which  is '-':" 

"I  WILL  FIGHT  FOR  PAUL  AND  HIS 
RIGHTS  TO  THE  BITTER  END,  and  yet  re- 
main faithful  and  fair  to  my  other  children." 

"That  appears  most  inconsistent,"  Beauvais  said. 

"I  could  have  made  the  same  comment  on  your 
policy.  You  are  a  French  gentleman.  I  appeal  to 
your  honor  to  be  fair." 


THE  FIRST  CHALLENGE  1 83 

Hermance's  face  was  flushed;  her  eyes  burned 
with  a  new  fire,  and  she  stood  before  her  husband 
his  equal  in  every  talent — his  superior  in  many. 

But  Raoul  Beauvais  was  small  in  nothing.  His 
jealousy  had  pushed  him  to  extremes,  and  would 
push  him  further — but  the  wife  of  his  choice  had 
her  rights,  and  he  acknowledged  them  then  and 
there. 

"I  have  pledged  myself,  Hermance,  to  respect 
your  feelings,  and  to  fight  honorably  for  my  boys. 
If  Paul  defeats  me  in  the  end — then  it  must  be." 

This  was  a  strange  compact  between  husband  and 
wife,  but  it  could  not  be  avoided  under  the  circum- 
stances. It  was  perhaps  even  stranger  that  they 
should  make  any  agreement  at  all.  However,  since 
they  did  agree,  it  was  best  that  they  championed 
their  claimants  without  hazarding  domestic  peace 
of  a  quarter  of  a  century's  duration. 

"You  will  not  interfere  with  my  answer  to  this 
letter?"  Raoul  asked  suspiciously. 

"You  are  starting  wrong,  Raoul,"  she  said  smil- 
ing. "If  you  are  to  fight  me,  and  I  fight  you,  we 
shall  do  so  with  the  kindest  of  feelings  for  each 
other.  Everything  is  fair  in  war.  That's  your 
letter.  You  do  not  need  to  show  me  your  reply. 
I  am  not  going  to  show  you  my  reply,  you  may  de- 
pend upon  that." 

The  wits  of  the  man  were  stalled.  He  had  not 
counted  on  having  Hermance  opposed  to  him  in  that 
mood.  He  thought  she  might  cry  and  give  in — he 


184  THE   INVADER'S   SON 

had  thrown  out  the  life  line  to  her,  and  she  had 
seized  it  and  promised  to  be  a  most  formidable  an- 
tagonist. 

"All  right,"  Raoul  said  with  a  resignation  that 
amused  Hermance.  She  understood  how  he  felt 
about  Paul,  and  could  not  find  it  in  her  heart  to 
blame  him  for  but  one  thing — he  was  not  broad 
enough  in  mind  and  heart  to  appreciate  real  merit  in 
the  young  man. 

The  next  morning,  before  going  to  the  office,  M. 
Beauvais  motioned  to  Paul  to  follow  into  the  gar- 
den. He  realized  Paul  had  an  able  ally,  but  finality 
must  be  put  on  matters  as  they  arose.  As  the  head 
of  the  family  he  would  exercise  his  rights  first — if 
he  could — and  do  so  in  such  definite  terms  that 
there  could  be  no  mistaking  what  he  meant. 

Paul  was  clever  enough  to  sense  something  un- 
usual was  about  to  happen,  and  steadied  his  nerves 
to  receive  the  shock. 

"Paul,"  M.  Beauvais  began  in  a  kind,  but  steely 
voice,  "I  have  a  letter  from  M.  Pierre  de  Robin- 
court." 

They  had  withdrawn  to  a  secluded  nook  of  the 
garden  where  they  were  quite  alone.  Paul  stood  in 
front  of  Beauvais,  calmly  casting  an  unflinching 
gaze  in  his  foster-father's  eyes. 

"Yes,  sir,  M.  de  Robincourt  promised  me  he 
would  communicate  with  you." 

"Have  you  learned  the  lesson  of  knowing  what 
I  mean  when  I  give  my  answer?" 


THE  FIRST  CHALLENGE  185 

"Yes,  father;  you  mean  exactly  what  you  say." 

"I  see  you  value  my  words.  I  forbid  you  to  pay 
further  attentions  to  Yvonne  de  Robincourt." 

A  cold  wave  rushed  over  Paul's  body.  He  did  not 
open  his  mouth,  move  a  muscle,  or  bat  an  eye.  He 
held  M.  Beauvais'  eyes  charmed  by  the  silent  de- 
fiance that  said: 

"Sir,  in  this  matter  my  pleasure  alone  is  my 
will!" 

For  a  full  minute,  the  young  man  and  the  middle- 
aged  man  stared  at  each  other.  No  cross  word  was 
spoken,  but  the  young  man,  in  that  brief  moment, 
flung  out  his  first  challenge. 

M.  Beauvais  left  Paul  standing  there,  and  went 
to  his  office.  All  day,  the  boy's  look  kept  coming 
back  to  him.  It  was  that  cool,  calculating  dare  of 
a  man  who  does  not  know  fear.  The  look,  as  he 
remembered  it,  assumed  a  personality  that  annoyed 
him.  Where  had  he  seen  that  glint  before?  He 
remembered  the  stare  of  stolid  multitudes.  Ah, 
yes! — it  was  German.  He  recalled  the  look  the 
German  soldier  gave  him  that  night  in  the  Battle  of 
the  Rivers,  when  they  dropped  to  the  bottom  of  the 
trench,  and  the  flickering  candle  showed  him  what 
manner  of  man  he  had  to  fight. 


CHAPTER  XVI 

THE  LORD  OF  THE  VINEYARD 

JACOB  LEDERFRANK  never  ceased  to  wonder  at  the 
unstinted  liberality  of  Count  von  Essenhandel.  If 
ever  mortal  man  deserved  praise  for  doing  all  in  his 
power  to  repair  a  wrong  with  material  substance, 
the  palm  would  have  been  merited  by  the  nobleman 
— had  there  not  been  the  ulterior  motive  of  revenge, 
and  the  selfish  desire  to  benefit  his  own  son.  From 
the  moment  the  able  and  conscientious  Hebrew  re- 
ceived his  commission  to  go  to  Ste.  Genevieve  and 
seek  out  Raoul  Beauvais,  the  hand  of  gold  had  held 
firmly  to  its  purpose.  Every  need  was  met;  no  de- 
mand was  quibbled  at  or  questioned.  More  than  once, 
Leder frank  interposed  objections,  but  failed  to  get 
a  hearing.  The  stereotyped  reply  was : 

"I  have  confidence  in  your  ability  and  honesty. 
Some  day  I  shall  review  your  work  and  require  an 
accounting." 

In  the  course  of  years,  the  German's  wisdom  was 
fully  demonstrated  and  justified.  He  had  chosen 
Lederfrank  as  a  master  of  business.  Not  only  did 
the  injured  Frenchman  pay  back  out  of  profits  de- 
rived from  the  industry  all  advancements  to  him,  but 
accumulated  enormous  wealth  besides.  The  Count 
received  the  total  of  his  original  outlay,  in  dividends, 
and  a  fair  profit  in  addition,  even  after  first  giving 

186 


THE  LORD  OF  THE  VINEYARD      187 

Lederf rank  fifty  per  cent,  of  the  gross  dividends  on 
sixty  per  cent,  of  the  capital  stock.  Of  course, 
Lederfrank  had  profited  more  than  any  of  them, 
except  that  he  did  not  own  a  share  of  stock  in  the 
concern.  Over  and  above  all  this,  Beauvais  owned 
forty  per  cent,  of  the  share  capital,  and  Lederfrank 
carried  in  his  name,  for  Count  von  Essenhendel, 
sixty  per  cent.  A  review  of  these  records  would 
convince  anyone  that  the  Lord  of  the  Vineyard  had 
been  far-sighted  in  his  charity — the  wine  presses  had 
produced  abundantly,  and  still  continued  to  pour 
forth  streams  of  plenty  for  all.  A  day  of  reckoning 
could  have  terrors  for  none — for  neither  the  just 
nor  the  unjust  stewards. 

From  the  beginning,  the  Jew  kept  faith  with  the 
benefactor,  and  was,  at  the  same  time,  a  true  friend 
of  Beauvais.  Although  obliged  to  conceal  from  his 
partner  the  source  of  financial  support,  in  no  in- 
stance did  he  harm  the  beneficiary.  He  might  have 
confessed  his  duplicity  to  Beauvais  without  fear  of 
reproach.  With  unerring  fidelity  he  reported  regu- 
larly to  the  Count  everything  that  transpired;  sent 
to  the  Rhine  detailed  information  about  Paul — his 
photographs,  his  school  records,  his  boyish  sayings 
and  doings,  and  especially  Beauvais'  attitude 
towards  the  child  from  year  to  year.  Quietly  and 
doggedly  he  was  pushing  the  business  to  the  phe- 
nomenal success  \vhich  satisfied  the  Count's  concep- 
tion of  repentance. 

Having  clearly   in  mind   the   intention  of   Von 


188  THE   INVADER'S   SON 

Essenhendel  to  establish  Paul  in  authority  in  the  firm 
of  Lederfrank,  Beauvais  &  Co. — the  firm  name  had 
been  changed  in  later  years — the  Count's  efficient 
representative  did  not  fail  to  communicate  to  his 
principal  Beauvais'  jealousy  of  Paul.  A  summons 
came  immediately  for  his  attendance  at  the  castle 
for  a  conference. 

Upon  arriving,  Lederfrank  was  received  with  the 
usual  elaborate  hospitality  of  the  Count's  household. 
The  seven  sons  vied  with  their  parents  in  extending 
the  most  delightful  welcome  in  their  power.  To 
them,  Jacob  Lederfrank  was  a  marvelous  man.  Out 
of  a  mass  of  hurry-scurry,  cut-throat  commercial 
pirates,  he  had  come  to  handle  millions.  With  these 
millions,  he  produced  other  millions,  and  never  yet 
had  Count  von  Essenhendel,  or  anyone  for  him,  set 
foot  on  the  premises  in  Ste.  Genevieve,  notwith- 
standing the  long-threatened  accounting.  Besides, 
Lederfrank  did  not  have  a  sou  invested  in  the  com- 
pany. Such  a  man  was  deserving  of  the  fullest 
appreciation  by  every  member  of  the  German 
family. 

The  second  morning  after  his  arrival,  Jacob 
Lede frank  met  his  silent  partner,  Count  von  Essen- 
hendel, and  Dr.  Rudolph  Badenheim  in  the  carved 
oak  study  of  the  ancient  castle.  Badenheim  was  a 
legal  advisor  of  the  Count,  and  the  conservator  of 
trie  multitudes  of  investments  of  the  Von  Essenhen- 
del estate. 

"It  is  so,  then,"  began  the  Count,  putting  the  tips 


THE  LORD  OF  THE  VINEYARD      189 

of  his  fingers  together  in  conical  shape,  "that  your 
associate  evinces  an  inclination  to  suppress  worthy 
German  traits  in  my  son?" 

"That's  the  attitude,"  admitted  Lederfrank  with 
feeling,  for  Beauvais'  bitterness  had  irritated  and 
hurt  the  Jew. 

"H'm.  It  is  also  true,  I  believe,  that  out  of  the 
profits  of  this  great  business,  built  up  with  my  capi- 
tal, Beauvais  has  returned  in  full  all  advancements 
made  to  him,  and,  further,  has  laid  aside  a  comfort- 
able fortune?" 

"That  is  true." 

"You  are  a  millionaire,  too,  Lederfrank/'  said  the 
Count,  winking.  "You  have  well  earned  your 
share,"  he  hastened  to  add. 

"If  I  had  not  taken  care  of  my  own,  I  should  not 
have  been  capable  of  serving  you,"  was  Lederf rank's 
modest  reply. 

"The  finest  piece  of  charitable  work  I  have  ever 
seen  carried  out!"  commented  the  lawyer. 

"Very  good !"  admitted  the  Count,  shaking  like  a 
jelly-fish,  as  he  chuckled — for  the  head  of  the  great 
Teutonic  family  was  exceedingly  fat.  "I  now  feel," 
he  continued,  "I  have  fully  discharged  the  obliga- 
tion I  felt  buckled  upon  me  more  than  twenty  years 
ago.  I  owe  M.  Beauvais  and  his  wife  nothing. 
You  tell  me  that  Madame  is  loyal  to  the  boy;  loves 
him  more  than  the  other  children.  I  am  much 
pleased.  But  I  am  disappointed  in  M.  Beauvais. 
He  made  a  convert  of  me  to  the  nobleness  in  French 


190  THE   INVADER'S   SON 

character  that  night  we  fought  hand  to  hand — now 
he  becomes  mean.  I  do  not  like  it." 

"There  is  the  old  prejudice,  Count,"  volunteered 
the  lawyer. 

"Ah,  but  he  has  no  leg  on  which  to  stand.  He 
accepted  the  child,  and  he  is  a  youth  of  fine  charac- 
ter, and  is  promising,  wholly  undeserving  of  such 
treatment." 

"It  is  the  fact,  of  course,  that  he  is  superior  to 
Beauvais'  boys " 

"I  know,  Lederfrank,  there's  something  in  that, 
but  the  idea  of  a  man's  being  so  small  and  narrow 
that  he  cannot  appreciate  superiority  in  even  an  en- 
emy, I  cannot  reconcile  it  with  the  Raoul  Beauvais 
I  knew  in  the  trench." 

There  was  silence  for  a  few  seconds,  and  then  the 
Count  proceeded  deliberately : 

"But  I  shall  bring  him  to  account.  I  shall  make 
him  recognize  the  ability  in  Paul.  The  jealousy  in 
him  shall  dribble  out  of  him,  or  be  torn  out  in  bulk 
at  my  pleasure.  We  shall  see  if  he  is  a  true  gentle- 
man, temporarily  crazed  by  discovering  that  his  own 
sons  are  not  marvels,  or  whether  he  is  unworthy 
even  to  cast  before  swine.  I  shall  superintend  the 
job.  If  I  have  been  liberal  in  repentance,  I  shall  be 
zealous  in  making  Beauvais  appreciate.  Of  one 
thing  I  am  certain.  I  SHALL  PUT  MY  SON, 
PAUL,  IN  FULL  AUTHORITY  AND  OWN- 
ERSHIP OF  THE  STE.  GENEVIEVE  BUSI- 
NESS." 


THE  LORD  OF  THE  VINEYARD      191 

A  hush  again  reigned  in  the  room.  Lederfrank 
and  Dr.  Badenheim  knew  the  Count's  word  was  as 
unrecallable  as  a  rifle  bullet  after  it  had  been  fired. 
They  waited  to  hear  what  would  follow. 

"Mr.  Lederfrank,  you  have  brought  with  you  the 
original  contract  with  Raoul  Beauvais?" 

"Here  it  is." 

"Is  this  agreement  still  valid,  Doctor?" 

Dr.  Badenheim  had  drawn  the  agreement  years 
before,  and  glanced  over  it  to  refresh  his  memory. 

"It  is  valid,  Count,  and  a  wonderful  document 
of  your  dictation  at  the  time." 

"So!  I  shall  see.  Ah,  yes!  I  remember  the 
trap  I  set  at  the  time.  This  contract  provides  that 
Raoul  Beauvais  can  sell  only  to  Jacob  Lederfrank, 
or  his  nominee,  the  shares  purchased  under  this 
document.  The  price  is  fixed  at  par — I  believe  this 
is  correct.  So  it  is.  It  also  provides  how  that  oc- 
casion of  purchase — or  sale  by  Beauvais — may  arise. 
'In  case  the  said  Raoul  Beauvais  shall,  at  any  time, 
refuse  to  agree  to  improvements,  extensions,  pur- 
chases of  additional  properties,  equipments,  fran- 
chises, rights,  and  concessions;  or  shall  refuse  to 
acquiesce  in  the  business  policy  of  the  said  Jacob 
Lederfrank,  etc.'  All  the  rest  of  it  is  here,  too—- 
more than  we  need.  My  plan,  gentlemen,  is  to  force 
Beauvais  to  sell  to  Lederfrank." 

"That  may  be  very  difficult,"  said  Lederfrank. 
"Also,  it  would  have  to  be  free  from  any  wrong, 
or  I  would  not  attempt  it." 


192  THE   INVADER'S   SON 

"You're  right,  Jacob.  It  does  not  necessitate 
wrong-doing.  He  is  proving  to  be  the  unjust  stew- 
ard. I  shall  call  him  to  account.  Under  his  own 
hand,  at  the  time  the  talents  were  loaned  him,  he 
prescribed  the  manner  in  which  they  might  be  re- 
quired again.  He  loses  nothing.  He  is  rich  off  of 
the  increase.  On  top  of  that,  I  shall  pay  him  par, 
in  cash,  for  his  shares.  I  call  that  generous  pun- 
ishment." 

"That  is  the  generosity,  Count,  but  not  the  pun- 
ishment. The  punishment  comes  in  when  you  make 
over  these  same  shares  and  your  shares,  as  well,  as 
the  sole  property  of  your  son,  Paul !" 

The  Count  shook  in  silent,  gratifying  laughter. 

"But  it  will  be  difficult,  I  repeat,  to  get  him  to 
comply  with  his  agreement.  The  fertilizer  business 
is  so  enormous." 

"The  devil !"  exclaimed  the  shrewd  Count,  "make 
him  sell!  You  have  built  the  business.  Now  you 
come  back  to  me  and  plead  difficulties!" 

"I  have  not  built  the  business  alone.  Raoul  Beau- 
vais  is  as  able  as  I  am — he  has  a  lot  of  bulldog  in 
him,  too,  and  I  tell  you  we  shall  have  to  measure 
the  cloth  carefully  before  we  cut  it." 

"Yes  and  yes  and  yes!  But  start  in  now  to  ma- 
nipulate the  business,  so  the  reorganization  will  be 
imperative.  You  tell  me,  and  my  brother-in-law 
writes  me,  that  Paul  is  now  leading  his  classes  at 
Oxford,  in  England,  where  he  has  gone  from  the 
universities  in  France.  In  one  or  two  years  he  will 


THE  LORD  OF  THE  VINEYARD      193 

be  home,  ready  to  assume  responsibilities.  Plan  in 
concert  with  me.  The  moment  you  reported  to  me 
Beauvais  had  turned  the  yellow  leaf  in  his  life,  I 
began  to  plan.  PAUL  SHALL  BE  A  GERMAN ! 
I  intend  he  shall  wed  a  German  girl — and  inform 
you  now,  that  I  have  arranged  for  my  choice  to 
be  thrown  in  his  society.  He  is  now  being  enter- 
tained in  the  home  of  her  father,  who  has  established 
his  residence  in  Oxford,  at  my  suggestion.  BE 
THOROUGH!  is  my  motto,  and  is  the  motto  of 
every  German.  That  is  why  the  world  cannot  com- 
pete successfully  with  the  Fatherland.  Damn  it! 
Lederfrank,  back  to  your  guns!  Bring  about  that 
reorganization!" 

Dr.  Badenheim  laughed  until  he  was  red  in  the 
face. 

"The  Jew  is  the  best  business  partner  in  the 
world,"  said  the  Doctor,  "but  business  without  ma- 
nipulation is  no  good.  The  Jew  is  brains  to  the 
business;  the  German  is  the  blood  that  maintains 
life  and  distribution — and  fetching!  The  brain  is 
serene  and  secure  in  its  casement ;  the  blood  goes  out 
and  comes  in,  and,  where  it  fails  to  permeate,  when 
it  ceases,  there  is  death." 

Jacob  Lederfrank  caught  the  fire  from  his  chief, 
and  promised  to  carry  out  the  undertaking. 

"Dr.  Badenheim  will  assist  you  in  working  out 
the  legal  details.  You  may  not  be  aware  that  my 
other  investments  already  control  the  ingredient 
materials  you  use  in  your  factories  with  the  phos- 


194  THE   INVADER'S   SON 

phate.  I  also  have  a  concealed  hand  in  the  various 
distributing  agencies,  and  know  how  to  curtail  your 
sales  without  your  discovering  how  it  is  done. 
Lastly,  but  not  least,  your  vast  equipment  of  ma- 
chinery is  out  of  date.  Determine  at  once  to  put 
in  new  machinery.  You  will  then  find  how  near  I 
am  to  the  factory  that  can  supply  the  machinery. 
You  see,  my  dear  Lederfrank,  you  are  just  now 
learning  things  that  you  never  thought  it  necessary 
for  you  to  know,  and  yet  they  are  the  basis  of  the 
business  you  have  builded.  A  German  never  goes 
into  a  business  without  knowing  all  about  it,  AND 
CONTROLLING  ALL  ABOUT  IT.  From  the 
moment  of  creation — or  extraction  from  earth,  to 
the  return  to  earth  of  your  fertilizer,  every  particle, 
every  ingredient,  is  mine.  The  ways  and  means  of 
handling  the  products  are  mine.  In  six  months' 
time  I  could  break  down  your  business,  and  you 
would  never  know  how  it  was  accomplished." 

A  week  later,  in  the  factory  office,  at  Ste.  Gene- 
vieve,  the  usual  business  conference  was  in  progress. 
The  practice  had  been  established  to  commit  to  writ- 
ing whatever  conclusions  were  reached  in  these  daily 
conferences,  and  the  records  were  kept  in  a  book, 
prepared  for  the  purpose,  duly  dated  and  signed  by 
both  men.  On  the  afternoon  in  question,  Leder- 
frank proposed  an  extension  of  operations  to  North 
and  South  America,  on  a  larger  scale  than  had  ever 
been  attempted  in  Europe.  It  was  considered  good 
business  policy,  and  met  with  approval. 


THE  LORD  OF  THE  VINEYARD      195 

Lederf rank  wrote  the  five-line  laconic  record,  and 
he  and  Beauvais  signed  it. 

Two  months  later,  when  through  the  Count's 
ways  of  "ins  and  outs"  huge  contracts  had  been 
signed  in  the  United  States  with  the  Union  Fertil- 
izer Company,  and  another  engagement  entered  into 
in  Buenos  Aires,  Lederfrank  had  no  difficulty  in 
getting  Beauvais  to  agree  to  replacement  of  ma- 
chinery, if  necessary,  to  carry  out  the  conracts.  Then 
in  due  course,  both  men  discovered  that  the  Ameri- 
can contracts  had  been  taken  on  very  close  margin — 
they  had  honestly  made  a  miscalculation  in  some 
way,  though  Lederfrank  suspected  Count  von  Essen- 
hendel.  In  fact,  the  margin  of  profit  was  so 
close  that  Beauvais  feared  to  undertake  deliveries, 
after  rebuilding  the  factories.  Disaster  stared  them 
in  the  face. 

"Jacob,"  said  Beauvais,  greatly  concerned,  "how 
did  we  overlook  these  items?  How  did  we  make 
mistakes  on  freights  ?  True,  we  acted  on  our  sales- 
men's advices,  but  you  and  I  checked  these  items — 
in  fact,  all  items.  We  both  went  and  secured  the 
information,  and  it  was  all  correct  then.  I  cannot 
understand  it." 

Lederfrank  had  been  honest,  and  proposed  to 
be  throughout.  He  had  been  careful  in  making  the 
prices. 

"Well,  Raoul,  it's  done.  There  is  a  chance  we 
may  break  even  on  those  contracts,  except,  perhaps, 
the  items  of  machinery  and  initial  outlay — I  mean 


196  THE   INVADER'S   SON 

we  may  not  lose  on  the  actual  manufacture  of  the 
products." 

"Yes;  but  this  machinery  will  bankrupt  us!" 

"Hardly  so  bad  as  that !  Our  company  is  in  good 
credit,  and,  while  we  do  not  yet  know  what  this  ma- 
chinery is  going  to  cost,  I  cannot  see  bankruptcy.'' 

"It's  not  the  way  we've  been  doing  business  in  the 
past." 

"No." 

"How  did  we  ever  come  to  think  of  this  American 
business?" 

"It  came  up  in  the  regular  course  of  our  confer- 
ences." 

"Don't  understand  me,  Jacob,  to  be  blaming  you. 
We  have  always  made  it  a  rule  to  act  in  concert, 
and,  after  anything  is  done  and  signed,  never  to 
question  who  mentioned  it  first — and  especially 
never  to  repudiate  what  we  did.  That's  my  policy 
still,  but  it  does  look  to  me  as  though  we  have  made 
a  blunder  which  may  wreck  us." 

"What  will  you  do  with  it?"  asked  Lederfrank. 

"I  can't  say.  Shall  we  wait  to  see  the  scale  of 
prices  this  spring?  By  that  time  our  machinery 
will  be  installed." 

The  first  wedge  was  in,  and  months  were  ahead 
for  contemplation. 


CHAPTER  XVII 

BEFORE  THE  START 

PAUL  BEAUVAIS  was  just  completing  his  courses 
at  Oxford — would  be  among  the  graduates  in  the 
summer  following.  He  had  come  alone  to  Eng- 
land. Patient  work  in  French  Universities  put  him 
far  in  advance  of  his  brothers,  who  were  devoting 
much  time  to  the  arts  they  liked  best — painting  and 
music. 

Alfred  was  a  fine  young  man,  and  already  his 
paintings  had  attracted  some  attention  in  Paris. 
Victor  played  the  violin.  They  called  him  the 
"Dandy"  Beauvais.  The  younger  brothers  had 
never  been  in  England,  and  Paul  expected  them  on 
the  early  train,  arriving  in  Oxford.  His  studies 
forbade  him  the  pleasure  of  meeting  them  at  Folke- 
stone. 

A  gray,  January  morning  lay  like  a  soiled  blanket 
over  the  quaint  college  town  of  Oxford.  The  bare- 
limbed  trees  in  the  University  grounds  were  drip- 
ping with  water,  and  yet  it  did  not  rain — the  atmos- 
phere was  so  saturated  with  moisture  that  every- 
thing wept  from  depression.  Paul  glanced  up 
from  the  thesis  he  was  writing,  and  saw  the  erect 
figure  of  Alfred  coming  along  the  Broad  Walk. 
''Oho!  he  is  hours  ahead  of  time — and  alone." 

197 


198  THE   INVADER'S  SON 

Seizing  his  hat  he  met  Alfred  before  he  got  to  the 
door. 

"Why,  Al!  I  didn't  expect  you  before  twelve." 

"Oh,  the  boat  and  train  were  too  slow  for  me — 
I  came  over  in  the  Royal  Mail  airliner,  SWAN. 
Victor  is  on  the  boat — girls  along,  ycu  know." 

"You're  looking  fit." 

"My  English  is  bad,  you  must  remember — what 
is  fit?" 

Paul  smiled.  "That's  strictly  English — in  this 
case  it  means,  I  find  you  looking  well." 

"This  oozy  climate  seems  to  agree  with  you," 
said  Alfred,  contemplating  the  pall  without. 

"It  doesn't  seem  to  trouble  me  any  to  keep  up 
to  the  mark." 

"When  have  you  heard  from  mother,  Paul?" 

"Had  a  letter  this  morning — it  was  written  this 
morning,  too.  It  came  over  on  the  Northern 
France,  EAGLE." 

"It's  almost  like  living  in  a  number  of  places  at 
the  same  time  nowadays." 

"Yes;  since  being  here  in  Oxford,  I  have  had 
letters  from  you  in  three  hours  after  you  wrote 
them." 

"Doing  good  work  here  as  usual?" 

"Fair,  I  suppose.  Englishmen  are  slow  but  sure, 
and  I  worry  them  some  by  getting  on  faster  than 
they  like." 

"Doing  anything  else  except  study?" 

"Oh,  lots  of  things.    I  have  lectured  several  times 


BEFORE  THE  START  199 

in  London  recently,  and  am  expected  to  speak  there 
next  Friday  night,  at  Queen's  Hall,  on  the  Interna- 
tional Republic." 

"My,  you're  still  at  that.  Why,  since  the  war 
scare  which  blew  over  four  years  ago,  the  theme 
has  become  stale,"  Alfred  said,  offering  Paul  a 
cigar. 

"Yes ;  I  know  the  ardor  fell  off  some — of  course, 
with  the  League  of  Nations,  which  has  been  more  or 
less  existent  since  the  famous  Woodrow  Wilson 
peace,  the  question  could  not  be  dropped  entirely. 
There  has  been  a  sort  of  international  combination 
to  prevent  war.  However,  now  there  is  a  strong 
society  organized  in  London,  under  the  leadership 
of  several  prominent  men,  with  the  object  in  view 
of  awakening  public  interest  and  support.  A  series 
of  addresses  are  to  be  delivered  in  Queen's  Hall  dur- 
ing the  winter.  The  same  thing  is  being  done  in 
larger  cities  in  the  United  States,  Germany,  and 
France." 

"Yes;  I  went  to  one  of  these  'open  meetings'  in 
Paris,  three  weeks  ago,"  said  Alfred,  "but  it  was 
poorly  attended,  and  the  speaker — half  of  us  fell 
asleep." 

"It  is  unfortunate,  I  know.  While  at  the  time  of 
the  Woodrow  Wilson  peace  all  the  world  clamored 
for  a  union  of  nations,  prejudices  prevented  a  proper 
carrying  out  of  the  idea.  There  has  always  been 
that  question  of  nations'  thirst  for  power.  They 
have  never  really  wanted  a  League  of  Nations,  but 


200  THE  INVADER'S  SON 

have  rather  clung  to  the  Balance  of  Power  Idea. 
International  jealousy  always  barred  reforms. 

"I'm  certain,  though,  it  is  different  today.  It 
is  different  in  London.  The  public  is  interested 
already.  My  address  is  the  third.  The  other  two 
were  delivered  by  men  of  international  stand- 
ing, and  the  hall  was  filled  with  representative 
citizens." 

"What  is  your  subject?" 

"  'The  International  Constitution.'  A  little  in 
advance,  perhaps,  but  I  believe  to  make  a  movement 
like  this  go,  is  to  launch  into  it  at  once.  If  you 
can  arouse  comment,  or  even  opposition,  you  have 
really  started  something,  High-flown  orations  on 
peace  and  brotherly  love  may  interest  for  a  time, 
but  people  want  to  know  how  it  is  proposed  to  do 
a  thing,  before  giving  it  support." 

"What  particular  theory  do  you  advance?" 

"Wait  until  you  hear  me.  You  and  Victor  will 
go?" 

"Yes;  I'll  go — can't  answer  for  Victor.  He's 
so  taken  up  with  music.  I  believe  he  has  several 
engagements  booked  to  play  in  private." 

After  a  pause,  Alfred  asked,  "Anything  else 
going  on?" 

"Plenty  of  receptions  and  the  like.  There's  to 
be  quite  a  gala  affair  tomorrow  evening  at  Baron 
von  Kielstadt's  home;  but  this  is  a  German  family, 
of  course.  The  son  is  in  Christ  College." 

"Your  first  invitation,  is  it?" 


BEFORE  THE  START  201 

"Oh,  no;  I've  been  several  times  to  dinner — 
charming  people,  and  very  learned. 

"Baron  von  Kielstadt  is  much  interested  in  my 
International  Republic  views.  He  and  I  have  had 
a  number  of  long  talks  on  the  subject. 

"Yes;  and  I  have  learned  to  speak  German  from 
associating  with  the  family.  My  study  of  German 
in  France,  of  course,  prepared  me  to  pick  up  fluent 
speaking  easily,  and  the  daughter — by  the  way  a 
wonderful  young  lady — has  taken  great  care  in 
assisting  me.  I  believe  I  shall  soon  be  able  to  de- 
liver an  address  in  the  language." 

Alfred  listened,  and  then  said: 

"Father  would  probably  have  something  to  say 
about  your  speaking  German." 

"No;  I  can't  think  of  father  as  being  narrow. 
He  has  never  spoken  against  the  Germans  to  me." 

"I  heard  him  on  one  occasion,"  cautioned 
Alfred,  "and  I  never  want  to  hear  him  again." 

"Anyway,  you  and  Victor  are  invited  with  me 
for  to-morrow  night.  You  will  go  and  see  for 
yourselves.  I  tell  you  they  are  popular  among  the 
students  here.  I  have  also  been  in  their  London 
house — it's  a  center  for  learned  society." 

"All  right,  General,"  said  Alfred,  "you  always 
managed  to  get  us  into  the  right  places  in  Paris, 
and  we  can  certainly  trust  you  over  here.  I  have 
come  to  do  some  painting  at  the  National  Gallery, 
in  London;  Victor  will  learn  the  language  and 
study  some,  also,  or  spend  his  time  as  he  likes.  At 


202  THE  INVADER'S  SON 

all  events,  if  you  can  guide  us  into  the  best  families, 
it  will  be  pleasant  for  us." 

"There  are  many  fine  English  families  here,  and 
in  London,  with  whom  I  am  acquainted.  My  studi- 
ous habits  have  not  prevented  my  going  about  a 
great  deal,  and,  as  always,  I  have  made  many 
friends.  You  know  I  like  to  know  people — must 
have  friends  to  get  on  and  be  happy.  I've  met 
some  excellent  country  folk,  too,  and  while  you 
are  in  England,  I  shall  arrange  for  you  to  see  all 
that  you  can." 

Alfred  entertained  his  brother  for  an  hour  with 
accounts  of  his  paintings.  That  seemed  to  be  the 
one  thing  on  his  mind,  and  Paul  was  rather  pleased 
to  see  he  had  caught  the  hunger  of  the  artist,  which 
would  doubtless  carry  him  to  success.  Among 
other  things  which  interested  Paul,  was  to  see  if 
Alfred  thought  of  mentioning  a  portrait  of  a  young 
lady,  only  recently  completed.  Finally,  Alfred 
said: 

"I  must  tell  you,  I  have  just  completed  my  first 
order  for  a  portrait.  Father  secured  for  me  an 
order  to  paint  Mademoiselle  Yvonne  de  Robin- 
court's  portrait.  Paul,  but  she  is  beautiful!  I 
really  do  not  think  I  did  her  justice  in  oils,  but  her 
family  praised  my  work.  Oh!  but  they  have  a 
grand  palace  beyond  the  Forest.  I  wish  you  could 
see  the  interior,  once." 

"I  have  been  all  through  the  old  mansion,"  said 
Paul,  with  as  little  interest  as  possible,  for  his 


BEFORE  THE  START  203 

mother  had  advised  him  not  to  let  Alfred  know  of 
his  attachment  for  Yvonne;  and  if  Alfred  men- 
tioned the  matter,  or  the  De  Robincourts  in  any 
way,  she  advised  it  would  be  much  wiser  to  show 
as  little  concern  as  consistent,  without  going  to  ex- 
tremes. 

"You've  been  there!  Where  on  earth,  Paul, 
have  you  not  been  ?  Well,  it's  fine,  and  I  know  you 
will  admit  it." 

"Yes;  it  is  the  equal  of  any  of  the  old  places  still 
existing  in  France." 

"Now,  old  De  Robincourt,  he's  a  caution.  He 
came  in  twice  while  Mademoiselle  Yvonne  was  sit- 
ting for  her  portrait,  and  each  time  I  wanted  to 
throw  something  at  him.  He's  the  gruffest  mortal 
I  have  ever  met  on  French  soil.  He  looked  at  me 
as  if  he  wanted  to  spank  me." 

"You  say  they  were  pleased  with  the  painting?" 

"Oh,  yes.  In  the  end,  the  old  chap  was  quite  de- 
lighted with  it.  He  warmed  up  a  bit,  and  said  nice 
things  about  my  future  in  art." 

"Have  you  painted  any  landscapes  in  that  part?" 

"Let  me  finish  about  the  De  Robincourt  order. 
A  few  days  after  it  was  completed,  father  came  to 
me  and  gave  me  five  thousand  francs,  saying  that 
M.  de  Robincourt  would  have  paid  more,  if  he  had 
asked  more. 

"But  you  know  father  has  queer  ideas  about 
dealings  with  his  friends." 

That  was  the  first  time  any  mention  of  family 


204  THE   INVADER'S   SON 

had  ever  occurred  between  the  brothers.  Both 
parents  had  cautioned  them-— M.  Beauvais  his 
champion,  and  Madame  Beauvais  hers.  Evidently, 
M.  Beauvais  thought  it  wise  to  refrain  from  men- 
tioning to  Alfred  that  Paul  had  already  made  a 
favorable  impression,  and  might  become  his  chief 
rival.  Anyway,  the  relations  of  the  brothers 
throughout  had  continued  confidential  on  all  other 
matters,  and  there  was  nothing  strained  or  un- 
natural between  them,  as  might  have  been  expected 
under  such  circumstances.  The  fact  was,  brotherly 
affection  existing  between  the  three  boys,  had 
always  been  entirely  strong,  and  they  were  too 
sensible  to  permit  parental  ambitions  to  interfere 
and  mar  youthful  happiness. 

Paul,  however,  knew  Alfred  was  making  desper- 
ate efforts  to  win  Mademoiselle  Yvonne.  Airline 
mail  ships  were  not  sailing  the  heavens  to  carry 
only  commercial  letters. 

Victor  arrived  at  one  o'clock.  He  had  experi- 
enced a  regulation  rough  passage  on  the  English 
Channel,  and  was  still  pale  and  out  of  sorts. 

"Enfin!"  he  said,  after  relating  how  the  waves 
had  boiled  over  the  narrow  steamer,  and  how  the 
ladies  and  gentlemen  were  afflicted  alike;  "est-ce 
suprenant  que  I'Angleterre  n'ait  jamais  ete 
envahie?" 

"No,"  replied  Alfred,  "it  is  not  surprising  that 
foreign  armies  in  the  past  have  not  succeeded  in 
invading  England." 


BEFORE  THE  START  205 

"William  the  Conqueror  and  his  Normans  did," 
said  Paul. 

''But  they  remained!"  said  Victor,  grinning. 
''Doubtless  they  feared  the  return  journey  more 
than  Harold's  soldiers — hence  the  victory  at  Hast- 
ings." 

"And  your  lady  friends?"  asked  Alfred  of 
Victor. 

"Oh,  they  got  to  London — I  hope.  //  m'etait 
impossible  de  faire  le  chevalier  galant!" 

The  ball  at  Baron  von  Kielstadt's  the  following 
night  was  truly  a  grand  affair.  There  was  a  total 
absence  of  catering  to  the  snobbishness  of  former 
times.  Great  numbers  had  not  been  invited.  The 
brightest  and  most  popular  young  men  of  the 
student  body  were  present.  Several  couples  came 
down  from  London.  The  American  Ambassador 
and  his  daughters,  the  German  Ambassador,  the 
French  Ambassador  and  his  wife,  and  a  sprinkling 
of  diplomats  from  several  countries  were  in  attend- 
ance. Just  sufficient  of  the  best  English  society 
had  been  selected  to  give  the  high  tone  of  the  home 
land. 

The  elaborate  Elizabethan  residence,  tempo- 
rarily occupied  by  the  Baron,  was  tastefully  fur- 
nished, leaving  a  few  marks  of  ancient  luxury, 
where  good  sense  suggested  they  were  better  than 
the  new;  and  the  decorations  for  this  special  occa- 
sion were  appropriate  without  a  smacking  of  gaudi- 
ness.  The  ballroom,  the  guests'  rooms,  the  dining 


206  THE  INVADER'S  SON 

salon,  were  aglitter  with  splendor,  but  not  over- 
done to  the  point  of  giving  one  the  feeling  that  the 
house  was  on  exhibition. 

The  Baron  and  the  Baroness,  dignified  and 
stately,  presided  over  their  guests,  without  giving 
the  impression  of  any  deep-laid  design  to  court 
favor;  nor  did  they  appear  uneasy  lest  some  detail 
might  jar  the  delicate  notions  of  the  guests.  The 
palatial  home  had  been  thrown  open  to  invite 
friends  for  an  evening  of  enjoyment. 

That  no  thought  of  ends  to  be  attained  entered 
the  minds  of  the  hostess  and  her  husband  was  abso- 
lutely true — with  one  exception.  The  trap  was  set 
to  catch  Paul  Beauvais.  Their  daughter,  Ellinda, 
had  been  set  apart  as  suitable  for  Paul's  ideal  wife. 
Count  von  Essenhendel  was  financing  the  cam- 
paign. The  Baron's  son,  Frederick,  was  person- 
ally interested  in  this  scheme  and  worked  in  season 
and  out  of  season  at  the  invader's  son,  to  hasten 
the  accomplishment  which  had  brought  the  Von 
Kielstadts  to  England. 

Ellinda  Von  Kielstadt  was  the  most  efficient  of 
the  four  plotters,  and  a  certain  startling  vivacious- 
ness  and  freshness  made  her,  in  most  instances,  ir- 
resistible in  winning  the  attentions  of  men.  Her 
subtle  beauty  was  hypnotic.  She  had  a  wonderful 
figure,  light  golden  hair,  nymphlike  face,  clear  and 
delightfully  teasing  blue  eyes,  highly  intelligent  ex- 
pression, pretty  hands,  small  feet;  and  she  carried 
herself  with  a  quick,  elastic  step,  indicative  of  great 


BEFORE  THE  START  207 

vitality  and  exuberance  of  gay  spirits.  A  rich  hus- 
band was  her  ambition.  With  her  attractiveness, 
cleverness,  education,  and  sparkling  wit,  she  made 
an  exceedingly  formidable  adversary  in  tempting 
romantic  conquests.  Before  Count  von  Essenhen- 
del  took  her  family  under  his  wing  for  her  sake, 
Ellinda  had  lived  a  hard  life,  pinched  and  restricted 
sometimes  for  bare  necessities.  The  Count  had 
found  the  Von  Kielstadts  in  a  small  apartment  of 
four  rooms,  in  the  cheap  quarter  of  Berlin.  They 
were  poor  aristocrats — a  family  of  ancient  lineage 
and  renown, — father  and  mother  learned  and  re- 
fined, and  accustomed  to  the  fat  of  the  land.  A 
chain  of  unfortunate  financial  transactions  had 
dropped  them  out  of  the  circle  of  their  friends,  and 
nipped  the  prospects  of  the  daughter,  just  as  she 
was  coming  into  womanhood.  The  Count,  in  cast- 
ing about  for  a  wife  for  Paul,  remembered  the 
Baron  and  his  family,  and  made  certain  proposals 
which  had  resulted  in  the  opening  of  the  establish- 
ments in  London  and  Oxford.  Ellinda  entered  into 
the  attempted  capture  with  a  spirit  of  adventure — 
anything  was  preferable  to  starving  without  the 
railings  of  her  true  state.  She  could  not  think  of 
going  on  the  stage ;  she  did  not  know  how  to  work, 
but  she  would  know  how  to  scheme  for  a  husband, 
and,  while  she  had  come  with  her  mother  and 
father  on  an  expedition  of  conquest  for  money,  she 
was  already  actually  in  love  with  Paul  Beauvais, 
which  fact  greatly  hazarded  his  chances  of  escape. 


208  THE  INVADER'S  SON 

And  yet  Paul  was  ignorant  and  unsuspecting  of 
the  state  of  affairs.  He  led  Ellinda  into  dinner  that 
night,  and  was  envied  by  two-thirds  of  the  young 
men  for  having  the  preference.  He  also  danced 
with  Ellinda.  But  Paul  liked  to  know  what  was 
going  on,  and  made  it  his  business  to  talk  with  the 
Ambassadors  and  informed  men  about  current 
events,  and  get  their  opinions  of  the  chances  of 
success  for  the  International  Republic.  He  chatted 
and  joked  with  the  elderly  ladies,  and  mingled  so 
generally  among  the  select  crowd  that  no  one  could 
have  said  any  young  lady  monopolized  him.  In 
fact,  Paul  Beauvais  rather  held  himself  aloof  in 
paying  too  much  attention  to  anyone.  He  was 
agreeable  and  companionable,  but  quiet  and  unob- 
trusive. 

The  old  Baron  was  the  formidable  schemer.  His 
learning,  authoritative  bearing,  personal  interest 
for  his  children's  welfare,  and  the  great  desire  to 
resuscitate  the  substance  of  his  family,  impelled 
him  with  a  zeal  that  made  him  even  as  dangerous 
to  Paul  as  his  daughter's  wiles.  Besides,  the  Count 
had  promised  an  orphan  niece,  who  was  rich,  and 
a  member  of  the  Count's  household,  in  marriage 
to  the  Baron's  son,  Frederick — the  engagement 
having  already  been  arranged  with  the  pretty  niece, 
and  things  would  run  smoothly,  provided  the  union 
could  be  consummated  between  Ellinda  and  Paul. 

The  Baron  had  been  told  in  confidence  that  Paul 
was  the  Count's  son  by  a  marriage  that  had  been 


BEFORE  THE  START  209 

broken  off  in  the  Great  War,  and  Paul  had  been 
allowed  to  take  the  name  of  a  French  gentleman, 
who  afterwards  became  the  husband  of  the  Picar- 
dian  beauty.  The  Baron  was  also  apprised  of  the 
fact  that  the  Count  proposed  to  put  Paul  into  full 
ownership  of  the  immense  business  in  Ste.  Gen- 
evieve.  The  bait,  therefore,  was  worth  while,  and 
with  the  lifting  out  of  want,  verging  on  to  beggary, 
and  the  promise  of  great  and  lasting  benefits,  the 
astute  German  might  be  depended  upon  to  court 
Paul  Beauvais  to  an  extent  difficult  to  resist,  and 
the  course  of  the  hare  was  watched  with  a  trained 
hunter's  eye. 

The  mother  had  first  revolted  at  the  idea  of 
going  out  to  capture  a  husband  for  her  daughter, 
but  poverty  is  a  hard  taskmaster.  The  husband, 
the  daughter,  and  the  son  finally  prevailed.  When 
the  fine  old  lady  saw  Paul  for  the  first  time,  she 
was  quite  satisfied.  "Ellinda,"  she  said,  "you  could 
not  choose  a  more  excellent  young  man  for  a  hus- 
band." Once  in  the  full  swing  of  the  chase,  with 
plenty  of  money  flowing  in  from  the  Count,  the 
mother  became  almost  as  capable  as  any  of  them. 

Only  one  little  incident  occurred  the  night  of  the 
ball  which  could  be  depended  upon  as  leading  to 
a  starting  point.  It  was  planned  by  Ellinda.  It 
was  not  couched  in  a  look.  No  word  was  said  that 
carried  beyond  its  plain  dictionary  meaning.  There 
was  not  an  accidental  touch  to  stir  an  idle  thought. 
The  schemers  did  not  attempt  a  sortie  of  any  kind. 


210  THE  INVADER'S  SON 

No  comment  was  made  by  an  observant  guest.  It 
was  only  an  accident  that  happened — so  it  appeared ! 
but  Ellinda  had  deliberately  planned  it,  and  ini- 
tially, at  least,  it  worked  out  to  her  satisfaction. 

Next  to  the  last  dance  was  on,  and,  for  the 
second  time  during  the  night,  Paul  sat  talking 
casually  with  Ellinda — she  had  tried  to  have  more 
of  these  exclusive  chats  with  him,  but  he  seemed 
to  be  so  occupied  with  others.  She  could  have  him 
then  only  for  five  minutes,  for  he  would  dance  in 
the  last  set  with  the  French  Ambassador's  wife. 
A  fit  of  desperation  had  seized  Ellinda  within  the 
hour,  and  she  vowed  she  would  do  something  to 
put  Paul  under  an  obligation  to  her.  She  was  tired 
of  his  formal  calls — mostly  to  converse  with  her 
father.  He  must  be  brought  to  her  in  some  way, 
by  some  trifle  of  an  excuse,  so  that  an  affair  could 
have  a  chance  of  starting.  Therefore,  while  direct- 
ing his  attention  to  the  dancers  whirling  past  them, 
she  looped  her  delicate  watch  chain  around  the  two 
sleeve  buttons  of  his  coat.  The  valuable  watch  was 
then  drawn  half  out  of  its  pocket.  By  a  subterfuge 
she  kept  him  until  the  music  began  for  his  set.  The 
large  number  of  participants  in  the  farewell  spin 
were  already  gliding  rapidly  over  the  floor.  Ex- 
cusing himself,  Paul  dashed  away  to  secure  his 
partner.  The  watch  chain  fastened  to  him, 
snapped  off  short,  and  the  watch  went  rattling 
under  the  flying  feet.  It  was  crushed  immediately, 
and  kicked  hither  and  thither  without  mercy. 


BEFORE  THE  START  211 

"Oh,  I  am  so  sorry! — how  could  I  have  done 
it?"  exclaimed  Paul,  returning  to  her  at  once. 

"It  must  have  caught  on  your  coat — yes,  there's 
a  bit  of  the  chain  on  your  sleeve  now,"  said  Ellinda. 

"Do,  pray  excuse  my  carelessness — I  was  late. 
I  must  have  made  an  awkard  movement.  I  shall 
certainly  replace  the  watch  and  chain." 

"Oh,  never  mind.  It's  really  nothing  at  all.  It 
was  an  old  watch  anyway — a  gift  from  the  King 
of  Saxony." 

"Only  the  more  reason  why  you  valued  it — I 
shall  certainly  replace  the  damage.  I'm  not  the 
King  of  Saxony,  but  I  can  give  you  a  new  watch." 

A  young  man  came  over  with  the  mangled  time- 
piece at  that  moment,  and  Paul  took  it  and  put  it 
into  his  pocket. 


CHAPTER  XVIII 

THE  CALL  TO  NATIONS 

REFORMS  have  small  beginnings.  Often  the  crying 
need  dins  in  the  ears  of  generations  before  definite 
action  is  taken.  Then  suddenly  an  enthusiast  hurls 
a  bomb  that  starts  the  wavelet  on  the  still  waters. 
Sometimes  a  dying  beggar  gasps  a  battle  motto  in 
a  single  sentence.  A  priest,  in  Rome,  sees  two 
slaves  sold  on  the  auction  block,  and  makes  an 
anagram  on  the  word  Angles,  turning  it  into 
"angels,"  and  a  monk  is  sent  to  Britain  to  teach 
Christianity.  And  so  on  through  the  annals  of 
history,  people  point  to  some  specific  act — to  a 
man,  a  woman,  or  a  baby, — and  say  that  the  great 
movement  started  then,  or  with  the  advent  of  this 
or  that  personality. 

But  quite  as  frequently,  momentous  events  have 
their  births  in  the  minds  of  students.  Or  a  student 
may  gather  the  fragments  of  some  doctrine,  which 
have  been  floating  about  homeless  for  a  hundred 
years,  crystallize  the  principles  involved,  and  some 
day  exhibit  his  handiwork  to  the  populace,  when, 
lo !  he  kindles  an  inextinguishable  fire.  The  masses 
catch  up  the  rare  thing  of  beauty,  and  his  name  is 
immortalized  to  posterity. 

Paul  Beauvais  knew  this,  but  when  he  thought 
of  it  during  the  preparation  of  his  address  which 

212 


THE  CALL  TO  NATIONS  213 

he  had  agreed  to  deliver  in  Queen's  Hall,  he  smiled 
and  put  the  hope  from  him.  He  could  not  be  a 
genius  and  electrify  an  audience.  Besides,  he  had 
an  old,  threadbare  subject  to  deal  with — there  was 
a  little  more  interest  in  the  international  union  idea 
just  at  that  time,  but  he  suspected  it  was  owing  to 
the  fact  that  leading  men  had  been  honorary  mem- 
bers, and  they  were  paying  perfunctory  compli- 
ments for  the  recognition  politely  extended  them. 
After  they  had  done  their  duty,  the  spurt  of  popu- 
larity would  die  down.  So  far  the  movement  had 
been  talked  about  only,  and  the  leading  orators 
were  usually  ministers  of  churches,  presidents  of 
colleges,  or  students  of  universities.  These  latter 
workers  were  easily  induced  to  do  the  digging  and 
haranguing — it  gave  them  an  opportunity  to  air 
learning, — and  might  lead  to  something!  Paul 
was  frank  enough  to  admit  that  he  had  been 
selected  to  speak,  probably  to  save  some  older  head 
the  trouble  of  disturbing  the  gray  matter  of  his 
brain.  Nevertheless,  he  was  sincerely  enthused 
over  the  International  Republic  project,  stale  as  it 
had  become,  and  put  his  mind  and  heart  into  the 
address.  He  would  fling  his  best  at  the  sleepy 
crowd  anyway — perhaps  they  would  talk,  or  make 
wry  faces  at  him! 

Therefore,  he  decided  upon  the  subject,  "The 
Constitution  of  the  International  Republic,"  and 
actually  wrote  out  his  conception  of  what  that 
document  should  be.  At  the  proper  place  in  the 


214  THE   INVADER'S   SON 

address — if  the  people  showed  any  inclination  to 
hear, — he  would  read  the  "Constitution."  Why 
not? — what  could  result  if  no  clean-cut  idea  were 
ever  advanced? 

London  is  the  one  place  in  the  world  where  a 
crowd  can  always  be  collected.  A  few  paving 
blocks  are  to  be  removed  in  the  Strand,  and  hun- 
dreds loiter  to  see  it  done.  A  suffragette  gesticu- 
lates three  times  in  Trafalgar  Square,  and  five 
hundred  people  form  a  semicircle  about  her.  On 
Sundays,  three  score  and  ten  harebrained  exhorters 
expound  weird  religious  creeds  in  Hyde  Park,  and 
thousands  of  men  and  women  stand  about  in  cold 
rains  to  be  enlightened,  or  befuddled.  The  theatres 
are  always  full.  Whatever  the  subject  of  the  lec- 
turer, and  no  matter  where  he  speaks,  an  audience 
will  be  there,  provided  the  people  know  about  it — 
and  the  English  are  capital  listeners. 

The  Universal  Peace  Society,  London  Auxiliary, 
graciously  patronized  by  Lord  Merriweather  and 
Lord  Summersfield,  of  which  select  society  Sir 
Pinkerton  Dudley-Smith,  Speaker  of  the  House  of 
Commons,  was  the  Honorable  Secretary,  circulated 
the  information  that  the  Hon.  Willis  Baddington, 
Premier  of  Canada,  would  address  the  next  meet- 
ing on  a  subject  of  vital  interest.  Members  and 
friends  should  show  their  approval  of  the  grand 
purpose  of  the  organization  by  attending. 

Paul's  name  was  not  mentioned  in  the  announce- 
ment card,  from  which  he  concluded  that  his 


THE  CALL  TO  NATIONS  215 

address  had  been  dispensed  with  until  speakers 
were  difficult  to  procure  for  less  important  sessions. 

Sir  Pinkerton  Dudley-Smith,  in  return  for  his 
appointment  as  Honorable  Secretary,  felt  obliged 
to  announce  the  meeting  in  both  houses  of  Parlia- 
ment. He  paid  a  high  tribute  to  the  Premier  of 
Canada,  and  gave  such  a  twist  to  his  appeal  that 
about  half  of  the  members  decided  to  go  to  Queen's 
Hall  that  night.  All  of  the  Commons  and  Lords 
had  received  engraved  cards,  making  them  co- 
workers  of  the  society  for  a  year,  and  really  they 
had  been  too  busy  to  acknowledge  receipt — it  was 
already  too-  late  to  do  that,  and  the  smallest  courtesy 
within  their  power  was  to  attend  once.  It  would 
not  do  to  slight  the  Dominion's  Premier;  hence 
they  would  hear  what  he  had  to  say  on  such  a 
threadbare  theme. 

The  coming  of  the  Hon.  Willis  Baddington, 
however,  had  been  given  publicity  only  three  or 
four  days  prior  to  the  night  of  the  meeting.  The 
Peace*  Society's  Committee  on  Speakers  secured  the 
'fine  catch  in  the  nick  of  time — it  meant  something 
to  be  able  to  mention  that  premiers  were  working 
for  the  cause.  Therefore,  owing  to  the  short  time 
allowed,  the  filling  of  seats  in  the  Hall  might  have 
been  handicapped  somewhat,  but  for  an  additional 
fillip  which  came  at  the  last  moment. 

Posters  of  news-vendors,  in  London,  that  eve- 
ning displayed  tall  headlines,  reading:  "LORD 
DAVID  LLOYD  GEORGE  WILL  PRESIDE 


216  THE   INVADER'S   SON 

TO-NIGHT!"  Any  mention  of  the  name  of  the 
veteran  idol  of  England  always  attracted  attention. 
The  News  and  The  Star  sold  by  thousands.  A 
half-page  photograph  of  the  grey-haired  hero  ap- 
peared, with  the  statement,  that  early  in  the  after- 
noon, "Lord  George,  the  famous  War  Premier 
of  the  European  Struggle  of  1914,"  had  been  in- 
duced to  preside  at  the  special  meeting  of  the  Uni- 
versal Peace  Society,  at  Queen's  Hall,  that  night; 
the  patriotic  leader  would  appreciate  his  people's 
attendance,  since  the  subjects  of  the  Empire  should 
not  be  slow  to  give  approval  to  so  worthy  a  cause. 
The  speaker  of  the  evening  was  eulogized  in  a 
second  paragraph.  Of  course,  the  result  was  that 
Queen's  Hall  could  not  accommodate  the  crowd. 
Hundreds  were  turned  away,  for  even  standing 
room  could  not  be  found. 

Oxford  and  Cambridge  professors  were  espe- 
cially active  in  the  Society,  and  more  or  less  man- 
aged its  affairs.  This  was  particularly  true  of  the 
Oxford  men — they  constituted  the  backbone  of  the 
movement,  as  far  as  England  was  concerned.  Ox- 
ford professors  furnished  most  of  the  speakers, 
and  they  had  put  Paul  Beauvais  forward  as  a  most 
able  exponent  to  do  spade  work  for  the  Society. 
The  young  man  had  delivered  several  lectures  in 
London,  at  small  theatres  and  halls,  and  some  of 
these  efforts  had  been  noticed  by  the  papers.  The 
Daily  Telegraph,  on  one  occasion,  was  liberal 
enough  to  insert  two  modest  paragraphs,  in  which 


THE  CALL  TO  NATIONS  217 

it  stated:  "M.  Paul  Beauvais's  lecture  last  night, 
at  Shepherd's  Bush,  was  highly  appreciated.  He 
handled  his  subject  well — we  might  say  that  his 
effort  was  characterized  by  an  amazing  freshness 
of  thought."  But  it  had  never  occurred  to  Paul  to 
attempt  to  do  more  than  "entertain"  the  perfunc- 
tory sessions  of  the  Society. 

Therefore,  when  Paul  saw  that  special  prepara- 
tions were  in  progress  for  the  extraordinary  meet- 
ing, he  supposed  he  was  out  of  it — certainly,  "The 
Constitution  of  the  International  Republic"  would 
do  for  another  time.  However,  on  the  morning 
preceding  the  meeting  that  night,  Professor  Thur- 
low  came  to  Paul  and  said : 

"Of  course,  you  are  prepared  for  to-night." 

"Yes;  but  I  shall  not  be  required,  since  the 
Premier  of  Canada  is  to  speak." 

"But  I  understand  he  cannot  arrive  until  nine 
o'clock,  and,  inasmuch  as  the  cards  and  posters 
have  stated  the  time  of  meeting  as  eight  o'clock, 
it  is  our  intention  to  introduce  you  to  hold  the 
audience  for  the  Honorable  Premier." 

"All  right.  I  have  done  my  best,  and  can  finish 
all  I  have  to  say  by  nine.  But  don't  you  think  one 
of  our  professors  should  take  my  place?  There 
is  sure  to  be  a  good  gathering  of  people,  and — " 

"No,  M.  Beauvais.  Oxford  has  done  much  for 
the  promulgation  of  this  movement,  and  in  confer- 
ence this  morning,  the  various  heads  of  depart- 
ments think  the  people  should  know  what  our 


218  THE   INVADER'S   SON 

student  body  thinks.  You  have  been  selected  to 
give  expression  for  the  college  and  for  yourself, 
and  you  shall  be  given  the  opportunity  in  the  wait- 
ing interval  to-night." 

Thus  it  happened  that  the  Invader's  Son,  neat 
and  trig  in  a  new  suit,  sat  on  the  platform  with  the 
coterie  of  notables  about  Lord  George  and  the 
University  professors  from  Oxford  and  Cam- 
bridge. Paul  was  full  of  his  subject,  held  the 
precious  "Constitution"  in  his  hand  ready  to  per- 
form his  part  of  the  preliminary  program.  He 
knew  nothing  of  the  Lord  George  arrangement 
until  he  reached  London  about  six  o'clock,  and 
was  astonished  to  see  the  huge  mass  of  people  in 
the  hall.  He  was  rather  anxious  to  be  done  with 
his  speech,  so  that  he  might  enjoy  the  remainder 
of  the  program. 

The  Speaker  of  the  House  of  Commons  made  a 
brief  statement  that  the  large  crowd  present  would 
doubtless  be  glad  to  recognize  one  of  England's 
greatest  men  on  the  rostrum.  Paul  looked  out 
over  the  sea  of  faces,  and  cheered  with  them  when 
the  white-haired  statesman  arose  and  began  to 
speak.  The  young  man,  the  invader's  son,  was 
wholly  unaware  of  the  trick  Fate  was  beginning  to 
play  that  very  moment  for  him.  While  Lord 
George  spoke  in  slow,  measured  sentences,  the 
train  bearing  the  Hon.  Willis  Baddington  crashed 
into  a  goods  train,  and  made  it  impossible  for  the 
Canadian  Premier  to  arrive  before  ten  o'clock. 


THE  CALL  TO  NATIONS  219 

But  it  was  just  as  well  that  no  one  knew.  Lord 
George  never  had  been  noted  for  long  speeches, 
and  after  explaining  that  the  principal  orator  of 
the  evening,  the  Honorable  Premier  of  the  Domin- 
ion of  Canada,  could  not  be  present  until  nine 
o'clock,  introduced  to  the  people  M.  Paul  Beauvais, 
whom  the  renowned  leader  characterized  as  "one 
of  Oxford's  promising  'young  men." 

Paul  felt  his  face  and  neck  grow  hot,  but  what 
did  it  matter — he  might  as  well  get  on  with  what 
he  had  to  say. 

Once  on  his  feet,  his  heated  brain  cooled  while 
a  polite  clapping  cheered  him  from  the  main  floor 
and  the  galleries,  and  his  nerves  steadied.  He  be- 
gan in  a  voice  as  clear  as  the  tone  of  a  silver  bell, 
and  it  carried  to  the  topmost  seat.  His  first 
sentence  gripped  the  listeners.  His  unconcern  for 
self  won  for  him.  At  the  end  of  five  minutes 
came  rather  a  hearty  applause.  It  encouraged  him. 

Paul  then  began  to  court  his  audience.  With  a 
keen  eye  he  observed  that  men  and  women  here 
and  there  were  coming  over  to  him  rapidly,  and 
with  a  little  more  word  painting,  the  crowd  would 
give  him  the  inspiration  necessary  for  him  to  make 
them  understand  all  he  wanted  to  say.  He  realized 
his  power,  and  masterfully  cultivated  the  minds 
and  hearts  before  him  until  they  were  all  in  his 
hands  for  the  hour.  Then  he  began  to  deliver  a 
great  speech.  Men  opened  their  eyes  wide  as  they 
gazed  at  the  massive  young  figure  before  them, 


220  THE  INVADER'S  SON 

pouring  out  the  most  stirring  appeal  they  had  ever 
listened  to,  and  they  permitted  themselves  to  follow 
his  thoughts  and  be  convinced.  For  an  hour  and  a 
half,  Beauvais  interested  them,  swayed  them,  and 
made  converts  for  his  cause.  He  paused  and  looked 
at  Lord  George,  "Is  the  Honorable  Premier  pres- 
ent?" he  asked. 

"The  Honorable  Premier  will  not  arrive  yet  for 
almost  an  hour,  on  account  of  unexpected  delay," 
was  the  reply. 

"Go  on!  go  on!"  came  from  all  parts  of  the  hall. 

Beauvais  then  brought  out  the  proposed  consti- 
tution and  read  it  so  that  not  a  syllable  was  lost. 
He  closed  with  an  oratorical  climax  that  left  his 
hearers  wild  with  excitement. 

Briefly,  the  document  he  read  stated  in  the 
preamble  that  the  people  of  the  various  nations 
proposed  to  form  the  International  Republic  to 
bring  the  inhabitants  of  earth  into  greater  sympa- 
thy with  each  other,  to  insure  lasting  universal 
peace,  to  make  and  enforce  international  laws  and 
treaties,  and  to  secure  the  blessings  of  liberty  and 
unhampered  world  commerce  to  posterity. 

The  substance  of  the  "Constitution"  may  be 
outlined  as  follows: 

i.  The  union  should  be  formed  of  all  the  civi- 
lized nations  admitted  into  full  membership; 
smaller  nations,  or  settlements,  not  yet  attained  to 
the  standard  of  civilization  fixed,  were  to  be  ac- 
cepted as  secondary  members. 


221 

2.  The  law-making  branch  of  the  International 
Republic  was  to  be  composed   of   a  Parliament, 
made  up  of  a  lower  house,  called  the  House  of 
Representatives  and  the  Senate,  or  Upper  House. 
The  methods  of  electing  and  appointing  the  repre- 
sentatives and  senators,  the  apportionments,  bases 
of  representation,  qualifications,  salaries,  proceed- 
ings to  remove,   steps  necessary  to  fill  vacancies, 
etc.;  were  fully  set  out. 

3.  The   International   Supreme   Court   and   in- 
ferior Courts   would   interpret  laws   and  treaties, 
and  administer  justice  to  litigant  nations. 

4.  The  enforcement  of   the  laws  and  treaties 
were  placed   in   the   executive   department   of   the 
union,  at  the  head  of  which  was  to  be  an  Interna- 
tional President,  elected  by  the  joint  votes  of  par- 
liaments of  all  the  nations,   for  a  period  of  ten 
years.     There   were    to    be    two    vice-presidents, 
elected  in  a  similar  way,  also  for  ten  years;  the 
first  vice-president  to  possess  the  qualifications  of 
the  president,  and  it  should  be  his  duty  to  preside 
over  the  International    Senate;    the    second    vice- 
president,  also  possessing  the  presidential  qualifi- 
cations,  should   preside  as   Speaker  of   the  Inter- 
national House  of  Representatives.    In  case  of  the 
death  or  removal  of  the  President,  the  vice-presi- 
dents should  succeed  him  in  the  order  of  their  re- 
spective ranks. 

The    International    President    would    be    Com- 
mander in  Chief  of  the  Army  of  the  International 


222  THE   INVADER'S   SON 

Republic  composed  of  a  certain  standing  army 
from  each  nation  member;  and  Commander  of  the 
International  Navy,  composed  of  the  fleets  of  the 
nations.  The  armies  and  navies  of  the  nation 
members  were  to  be  regulated  as  to  numbers  of 
men  and  ships,  so  that  their  maintenance  would  not 
be  a  burden  to  the  citizens  of  the  various  nations. 

5.  The  right  to  declare  war  was  taken  away 
from  member  nations,  as  well  as  the  right  to  dis- 
cuss differences  or  grievances   arising   from  each 
other.    All  such  matters  were  vested  in  the  Senate 
of  the  International  Republic,  acting  as  an  Arbi- 
tration Court.    In  case  of  rebellion,  or  disobedience 
on  the  part  of  any  nation,  the  International  Presi- 
dent had  the   full  power  to  use  the  armies  and 
navies  of  all  the  other  nations  to  punish  such  re- 
bellious or  disobedient  nation.     Such  a  pledge  on 
the  part  of  each  nation,  that  her  army  and  navy 
should  be  so  used,  was  to  be  the  cardinal  qualifi- 
cation of  entry  into  membership  of  the  Interna- 
tional Republic. 

6.  The  International  Republic  was  to  exist  for 
the  purpose  of  protecting  and  enforcing  interna- 
tional  laws  and  treaties,   and  especially   for  pre- 
venting war,  and  all  of  its  powers  were  carefully 
denned.     No  power  was  to  be  delegated  to  it  by 
inference.     The  rights  of  nations  were  left  as  be- 
fore, with  the  exceptions  reposed  in  the  Interna- 
tional Government.     No  nation  was  to  be  inter- 
fered with,  or  prevented    from    dealing    with    its 


THE  CALL  TO  NATIONS  223 

own  subjects  and  laws,  but  no  nation  could  pass 
laws  restricting  the  rights  of  other  nations,  nor 
could  one  nation  enter  into  treaties  or  agreements 
with  another  nation. 

7.  Certain  laws  were    specially    vested    in    the 
International  Government,   such  as  laws  of  mar- 
riage and  divorce,   immigration  laws,  and  import 
and  export  laws. 

8.  The  International  Republic  should  be  main- 
tained by   direct   tax   of   a   proportionate   amount 
from  each  member  nation,  based  on  a  percentage 
on  the  total  army  and  navy  expenditures  by  each 
nation  for  the  years  1912,  1913,  and  the  first  half 
of  1914. 

In  his  closing  remarks,  Paul  pointed  out  that 
the  total  expenses  of  maintaining  the  International 
Republic  for  any  one  year  could  not  exceed  the 
reduction  in  naval  expenditures  of  Great  Britain 
for  one  year,  under  the  new  arrangement;  while 
the  annual  expenditures  of  the  German  Empire 
for  such  purposes  would  easily  keep  up  the  world 
organization  for  five  years. 

During  the  last  twenty  minutes  of  the  speech, 
the  Canadian  Premier  was  in  the  audience.  When 
Beauvais  had  taken  his  seat,  the  Premier  came  for- 
ward, and  after  briefly  explaining  the  cause  of  his 
absence,  .excused  himself  from  delivering  an 
address,  saying: 

"From  what  I  could  see,  and  especially  from 
what  I  heard,  I  am  sure  you  are  the  gainers.  The 


224  THE   INVADER'S   SON 

speaker,  M.  Paul  Beauvais,  in  my  opinion,  has  to- 
night issued  a  call  to  the  nations." 

Paul  Beauvais,  however,  was  not  prepared  for 
the  morrow.  The  newspapers  criticized  his  effort 
unmercifully — yes,  praised  his  oratory, — but  said 
he  had  wheedled  his  audience — an  audience 
gathered  to  hear  an  eminent  statesman — into  listen- 
ing to  a  lot  of  twaddle.  England  would  never 
consent  to  being  throttled  by  an  International  "Re- 
public." One  paper  said  it  was  a  little  unfortunate 
that  "unballasted"  students  should  be  permitted  to 
harangue  about  things  which  might  engender  feel- 
ing among  peaceful  nations.  Another  made  a  great 
ado  over  the  capital  of  the  International  Republic. 
What  nation  would  consent  from  the  start  for  the 
capital  to  be  established  in  any  given  spot?  "Na- 
tions," said  that  fiery  sheet,  "exist  for  their  own 
aggrandizements.  If  England  should  come  in  at 
all,  the  International  Capital  would  have  to  be  in 
London."  The  Flaming  Standard  stated  it  was  a 
pity  that  Mr.  Baddington  had  unwittingly  made 
the  error  of  characterizing  the  youngster's  speech 
as  a  "Call  to  the  Nations !" 

Nevertheless,  every  paper  printed  the  full  text 
of  the  "Constitution."  The  proposed  instrument 
was  telegraphed  and  cabled  to  every  important 
country,  where  it  was  attacked  as  the  "effusion 
from  the  feverish  brain  of  an  Oxford  enthusiast!" 
The  Chicago  Tribune  carried  a  cartoon  on  its  front 
page,  representing  the  dignified  Miss  Oxford  non- 


THE  CALL  TO  NATIONS  225 

chalantly  joining  the  group  of  Chicago  University 
cranks ! 

The  London  correspondent  of  The  New  York 
World,  however,  that  night,  after  the  delivery  of 
the  speech,  telephoned  to  New  York  a  just  account 
of  the  affair,  and  insisted  that  his  paper  champion 
the  new  idea  and  give  prominence  to  the  "Consti- 
tution." Consequently  that  publication  stood  alone 
in  the  United  States  as  an  advocate  of  the  Inter- 
national Republic. 

The  only  paper  in  London  that  risked  its  repu- 
tation in  printing  a  kind  word  for  the  proposal  was 
the  London  Times.  It  was  not  ashamed  to  repeat 
Premier  Baddington's  words,  that  the  effort  was  a 
"Call  to  the  Nations." 

When  Paul  Beauvais  read  the  bitter  criticisms 
next  day,  he  was  utterly  cast  down.  From  the 
meeting  that  night,  he  had  returned  to  Oxford, 
elated  and  enthusiastic.  In  the  early  morning  he 
awoke  to  believe  himself  the  laughing  puppet  of 
the  world.  How  could  they  be  so  blind?  What 
sentence  had  he  proclaimed  that  was  so  sharp  as  to 
stir  such  attacks?  After  all,  his  pet  International 
Republic  had  met  its  doom.  He  was  inconsolable. 
The  professors  could  not  say  anything  that  would 
brighten  the  way — he  must  forever  be  the  target 
of  the  vituperous  press,  and  be  pointed  at  by  people, 
who  would  call  him  an  upstart.  His  gloom  was 
not  lessened  in  the  days  that  followed,  when  he 
was  forced  to  continue  reading  counter-attacks  and 


226  THE   INVADER'S  SON 

ridiculous  squibs  from  the  main  onslaught.  To 
his  dismay,  he  found  that  the  papers  of  the  world 
had  taken  it  up,  and  for  a  week  he  had  to  dodge 
cameras  and  persistent  reporters. 

While  still  smarting  from  the  ill  usage,  he  re- 
ceived a  peremptory  letter  from  his  father,  de- 
manding that  he  return  to  Ste.  Genevieve  at  once. 
"I  never  dreamed,"  wrote  the  irate  Raoul  Beau- 
vais,  "that  you  could  be  so  imprudent  as  to  make 
a  fool  of  yourself." 

Newspaper  men  had  been  besieging  the  master 
of  the  Chateau  Morestier. 

However,  a  letter  came  from  Paul's  mother 
which  helped  him  to  find  his  equilibrium  again.  It 
ran: 

"My  dear  Son: 

"It  would  have  been  the  triumph  of  my  life 
if  I  could  have  heard  your  speech  in  Queen's 
Hall.  The  fact  that  papers  circulated  criti- 
cisms is  evidence  you  touched  the  vital  chord 
of  the  great  need.  All  of  them  admit  you 
carried  your  audience  to  conviction,  and  I  am 
sure,  among  that  vast  throng  of  great  men, 
you  have  made  many  friends. 

"Take  courage.  In  my  estimation  you  have 
succeeded.  You  always  said  to  me,  that  if 
you  could  make  people  talk,  even  make  them 
angry,  you  would  be  happy.  You  have  set 
the  world  talking  and  abusing  you,  but  you 


THE  CALL  TO  NATIONS  227 

have  kindled  the  fire.    Lift  up  your  head,  and 

be  superior  to  your  critics. 

"I  have  before  me  the  quoted  paragraphs 

of  the  London  Times;  which  appeared  in  the 

Figaro.    To  my  mind,  these  sober  expressions 

will  turn  out  to  be  the  reconsidered  views  of 

the  world." 

Paul  had  taken  all  of  his  examinations,  and  it 
was  not  necessary  for  him  to  remain  longer  at 
Oxford,  and,  inasmuch  as  his  mother  had  been  pro- 
vided by  the  foster  father  with  ample  funds  to 
see  him  through  college,  which  amount  was  yet 
large,  he  wrote  to  her,  suggesting  that  he  go  to 
Germany  and  take  up  some  special  courses.  The 
consent  was  given,  and  he  prepared  to  depart  for 
Heidelberg  at  once. 

Before  going,  Paul  wrote  to  M.  Beauvais,  and 
stated  he  would  guard  the  honor  of  the  family,  but 
that  since  he  was  a  man  approaching  the  age  of 
twenty-five,  he  would  have  to  be  responsible  to 
himself  alone  for  any  opinions  that  might  seem 
worthy  of  expression.  There  was  nothing  curt 
in  the  letter,  but  it  gave  the  elder  Beauvais  to 
understand  that  his  authority  had  ceased. 


CHAPTER  XIX 

A    FAILURE 

"Mv  DEAR  Miss  Von  Kielstadt,"  said  Paul,  on 
entering  the  Baron's  drawing-room  the  evening 
before  his  departure  for  Heidelberg,  "I  have 
brought  your  watch." 

"Oh,  you  did  not  need  to  trouble,"  she  said 
naively;  it  was  a  mere  accident — you  couldn't  have 
avoided  it." 

"I  should  not  be  happy,  and  know  I  had  care- 
lessly destroyed  His  Majesty's  gift  to  you.  Here 
is  the  watch  fully  restored  to  its  original  beauty. 
Everything  is  the  same — except  the  replaced  parts. 
They  were  obtained,  however,  from  the  same  fac- 
tory that  made  the  watch  originally — I  am  sure 
it  is  now  quite  as  good  as  it  was  in  the  beginning." 

Ellinda  hoped  it  would  be  a  new  watch.  Despite 
her  protestations,  Paul  was  shrewd  enough  to  de- 
tect her  disappointment. 

Alfred  had  discovered  the  trap,  and  warned  him. 

"But—"  Ellinda  began. 

"I  know,"  said  Paul  quickly, — the  diamond  ring 
that  was  on  the  chain — the  one  that  was  crushed 
and  the  stone  lost." 

"It  never  entered  my  mind  (this  was  a  false- 
hood), and  I  had  really  forgotten  the  old  thing." 

"I  hadn't,"  said  Paul  smiling  agreeably.  It  was 
228 


A  FAILURE  229 

so  much  crushed  that  I  could  not  restore  it,  and  I 
was  compelled  to  purchase  a  new  one." 

"Oh,  how  lovely!"  said  the  artful  Ellinda, 
hoping  he  would  produce  the  ring — and  he  should 
put  it  on  her  finger!  She  had  whispered  about 
that  she  expected  to  become  engaged  to  the  gallant 
young  Frenchman,  and  the  ring — well,  it  would 
help! 

"The  ring  will  be  sent  up  by  the  jeweler  in  a 
few  minutes,"  said  Paul,  with  apparent  unconcern. 
"I  shall  remain  until  it  is  safe  in  your  hands." 

"You  are  so  kind  and  thoughtful,  M.  Beauvais. 
I  am  sure  you  have  done  more  than  I  could  have 
expected  of  anyone." 

The  servant  announced  a  messenger  from  En- 
field  &  Shelby's,  the  jewelers. 

"Mr.  Enfield  has  brought  the  ring  in  person," 
said  Paul.  "If  you  do  not  mind,  may  he  come  in?" 

"I  don't  like  for  tradesmen  to  enter  the  drawing- 
room,"  said  Ellinda,  coloring  and  showing  irrita- 
tion. "I'll  go  to  the  door." 

Paul  could  hear  the  conversation. 

You  are  Miss  Ellinda  Von  Kielstadt?"  asked 
Mr.  Enfield. 

"Yes,   sir." 

"I  have  a  diamond  ring  for  you,  one  selected  by 
M.  Paul  Beauvais  to  replace  one  accidentally  de- 
stroyed some  time  ago,  the  original  ring  having 
been  given  you  by  your  father.  You  will  please 
sign  here." 


230  THE   INVADER'S   SON 

Ellinda  signed  the  delivery  book.  A  carbon  slip 
was  handed  to  her  with  the  package,  and  Mr.  En- 
field  bowed  and  hastened  on  his  way. 

Ellinda  came  back  into  the  parlor,  flushed  and 
her  eyes  flashing.  Paul  observed  that  she  read  the 
carbon  slip  as  she  turned  from  him  to  the  window. 
It  receipted  for  the  ring,  fully  described  as  "One  to 
replace  a  certain  diamond  ring,  etc. !" 

At  that  moment,  Paul  was  relieved  to  see  the 
Baron  and  Baroness  pass  the  open  door.  He  called 
to  them. 

"Come  in!"  rising.  It's  just  time  for  me  to  go, 
and  I  shall  take  my  leave  of  the  family  at  one 
time." 

Ellinda  faced  him  scornfully,  and  would  have 
said  something,  but  for  the  fact  that  her  father  and 
mother  entered  and  were  fawning  over  the  young 
man. 

"You  will  not  remain  for  dinner?— eh? — it  has 
been  several  weeks  since  you  were  here.  We  have 
missed  you,  and  wondered  what  could  be  keeping 
you,  and  now  you  run  off  when  we  have  you,"  the 
Baron  began  volubly;  "and  I  have  not  had  one 
special  talk  with  you  since  your  great  speech." 

Paul  rather  liked  the  Baron,  notwithstanding 
the  fact  that  he  now  believed  him  an  old  hypocrite. 

"Of  course,  M.  Paul  is  going  to  stay,"  the 
Baroness  began  sweetly;  "he  cannot  be  so  busy 
now — Frederick  tells  me  he  has  passed  all  of  his 
examinations. " 


A  FAILURE  231 

"Mother,  you  must  not  persuade  M.  Beauvais," 
put  in  Ellinda.  He  says  he  must  go." 

"Really  I  must  not  remain,"  said  Paul.  "I  must 
catch  a  train  for  the  Channel  tonight.  I  have  come 
to  bid  you  farewell,  and  to  thank  you  for  the  many 
courtesies  you  have  extended  me  during  my 
student  days.  I  hope  I  may  some  day  be  in  posi- 
tion to  show  my  appreciation.  You  have  been  ex- 
ceedingly kind." 

"So!"  said  the  Baron  pompously,  opening  his 
eyes. 

"Yes;  I  am  going  to  travel  a  little  in  Germany." 

"But  it  is  so  sudden.  You  should  have  come  to 
me,  and  I  could  have  advised  you  about  hotels,  and 
given  you  other  information.  It  leaves  me  quite 
in  the  lurch." 

The  Baron  was  truly  crestfallen. 

"That  I  acknowledge,"  said  Paul.  In  keeping 
other  things  in  order,  I  have  quite  neglected  many 
of  my  friends,  and  I  regret  it.  I  have  no  doubt 
lost  by  failing  to  come  to  you — since  you  know 
Germany  so  well." 

"Is  there  not  something  I  can  do?"  pleaded  the 
Baron.  It's  not  entirely  too  late." 

"Papa,  don't  you  see  you  are  keeping  M.  Beau- 
vais. He's  in  a  hurry!"  said  Ellinda  with  more 
emphasis  than  seemed  necessary. 

"No,  no;  there's  nothing  I  can  think  of — thank 
you.  I  must  now  say  good-bye." 

The  Baroness  tried  to  weep. 


232  THE   INVADER'S   SON 

Elinda  gave  him  a  limp  hand  and  said  "good- 
bye" with  a  scornful  ring. 

The  Baron  followed  him  to  the  gate,  palavering 
and  wresting  from  him  what  train  he  would  take 
from  London,  what  Channel  boat, — suggesting 
the  Fatherland  made  the  trip  to  Flushing  in 
three  hours,  instead  of  eight  as  in  the  old  days — 
and  a  lot  of  things  which  more  or  less  worried 
Paul.  ''Really — I'm  sure  you'll  understand, — 
really  I'll  miss  you,  and  my  dear  Ellinda  will  cry 
after  you,  M.  Beauvais.  You  know, — ''here  the 
Baron  pulled  Paul  down  so  as  to  whisper  in  his 
ear;  "you  know  she  is  very  fond  of  you!" 

Paul  disengaged  himself  and  hurried  on  his  way. 

"Phew !"  he  said,  "I've  finished  with  that.  Never 
again  must  I  be  caught  in  a  trap." 

In  London  he  stopped  a  day  with  Alfred  and 
Victor.  They  were  enjoying  their  stay  in  the  great 
city.  Victor  declared  he  did  not  know  when  he 
could  get  consent  of  his  mind  to  return  to  France. 
"I  like  the  English  misses — they  are  very  charm- 
ing," he  said.  Alfred,  too,  was  enthusiastic.  He 
had  begun  to  accomplish  some  excellent  work  in 
the  National  Portrait  Gallery.  Several  orders  for 
paintings  had  already  been  received,  and  he  con- 
templated opening  a  temporary  studio. 

When  Paul  told  Alfred  about  the  outcome  of  the 
Von  Kielstadt  affair,  the  brothers  laughed.  "Look 
sharp  in  future,"  said  Victor,  who  was  tangled  up 
in  at  least  three  cases  of  the  heart  at  that  moment. 


A  FAILURE  233 

"By  the  way,  Paul,"  said  Alfred,  "you  did  set 
things  in  motion  from  Queen's  Hall! — that. was  a 
great  speech." 

"Do  you  think  so?" 

"Of  course  it  was.  Why,  I've  talked  with  a 
dozen  men  who  heard  you,  and  all  of  them  say 
it  was  fine." 

"But  the  newspapers  didn't  like  it,"  said  Paul. 

"Oh,  they  criticised  your  fiery  attacks  on  some 
of  the  governments.  If  you  read  carefully  the 
comments  in  the  leading  papers  in  London,  they 
were  only  doing  their  duty — in  a.  way.  Not  one 
of  them  found  any  real  fault  with  the  system  you 
proposed.  You  will  find,  my  dear  Paul,  that  every 
one  of  them  will  come  to  view  your  ideas  in  an  en- 
tirely different  light  before  one  year  has  elapsed. 
Did  you  notice  particularly  what  appeared  in  the 
daily  paragraphs  of  the  Pall  Mall  Gazette?" 

"Yes,  I  have  kept  every  word." 

"Well,  that  paper  hinted  that  many  things  you 
said  would  sink  deeper  as  time  went  on — the  'Con- 
stitution' was  rather  praised  in  one  of  the  squibs." 

"Oh,  it's  just  as  well  it  happened  that  way,"  said 
Paul.  At  first  I  was  terribly  hurt  over  some  of 
the  criticisms,  but  I  have  come  to  realize  that  such 
a  speech  must  necessarily  antagonize.  I  put  for- 
ward the  truth  wholly  unadorned.  Newspapers 
must  give  the  news, — and  have  the  right  to  criti- 
cize. I  suppose  some  things  I  said  were  hard  on 
England.  However,  I  didn't  spare  France — and 


234  THE   INVADER'S   SON 

certainly  Germany  came  in  for  all  I  could  lay  my 
hand  to;  and  even  the  United  States  thought  I  was 
rough." 

"That  was  why  the  newspapers  attacked  you. 
It's  a  wonder  they  didn't  say  more.  You  turned 
the  searchlight  on  every  nation  and  pointed  out 
the  sins." 

"Yes;  but  I  gave  the  remedy.  After  all  I'm 
glad  I  made  the  speech.  I  thought  I  would  be 
forever  ashamed  of  it — after  seeing  the  papers, 
but  now  I  am  proud  of  it.  I  believe  something 
will  come  of  it  when  everyone  has  had  time  to  think 
it  out  for  himself.  The  papers  will  understand  me 
better  in  the  end.  I  agree  with  you,  they  have  not 
treated  me  badly,  and  I  believe  much  that  appeared 
would  not  have  been  printed  if  the  reporters  had 
heard  the  first  hour  of  my  address.  You  see,  they 
came  in  to  hear  the  Honorable  Baddington,  of 
Canada,  since  he  was  announced  for  nine  o'clock." 

"The  Daily  Telegraph  allowed  for  that,  if  you 
remember.  Its  comment  was  couched  in  careful 
language.  It  found  no  fault  with  your  'Constitu- 
tion,' and  it  printed  it  in  full." 

In  the  evening,  the  three  brothers  dined  at  the 
Hotel  Cecil.  Alfred  and  Victor  had  spent  the 
day  with  Paul,  who  was  busy  making  brief  calls 
on  friends,  to  bid  them  good-bye.  He  insisted  that 
his  two  brothers  go  with  him  everywhere,  for  he 
wished  all  of  his  friends  to  know  them.  But  they 
were  alone  at  the  Cecil.  They  talked  about  the 


A  FAILURE  235 

table  long  after  the  people  had  left  the  restaurant, 
and  in  one  way  and  another  got  into  closer  touch 
with  each  other.  Perhaps  few  brothers  ever  got  on 
so  well  when  they  were  children  at  home.  However, 
school  duties  and  differing  tastes  had  separated 
them  much  during  the  past  six  years,  and,  in  the 
meantime,  each  had  come  into  the  state  of  man- 
hood. But  the  short  intervals  of  association  in  the 
past  weeks,  the  day  in  London,  and  the  dinner  at 
the  Cecil,  brought  them  to  a  common  basis  of 
understanding.  And  it  was  well,  for  plans  were 
being  perfected  at  Ste.  Genevieve,  that  would  re- 
quire the  united  efforts  of  Paul,  Alfred,  and  Victor, 
— and  the  mother — to  prevent  real  harm  to  the 
family. 

Alfred  and  Victor  went  to  the  station  with  Paul, 
and  it«was  agreed  the  three  would  meet  in  Brussels, 
to  go  home  together  on  the  ist  of  May. 

When  Paul  reached  the  Channel  boat  Father- 
land he  saw  Baron  von  Kielstadt  running  all 
about,  looking  for  him! 

He  slunk  into  the  shadows  and  thought  a  minute. 
He  had  supposed  himself  clear  of  the  Baron,  but 
there  he  was,  dogging  his  footsteps.  Paul  sent  for 
one  of  the  stewards  on  the  boat. 

"Here's  a  piece  of  gold.  Take  my  trunk  and 
other  baggage  on  the  boat.  When  you  arrive  at 
Flushing,  send  them  to  the  Diesseldorf  Hotel." 

The  lackey  grinned  appreciatively,  and  began  to 
obey  orders. 


236  THE   INVADER'S   SON 

Paul  hailed  a  cab.  "Put  me  down  at  the  Sky 
Pilot/'  he  said.  Fifteen  minutes  later,  when  the 
Sky  Pilot  spread  her  wings  in  the  heavens,  Paul 
Beauvais  was  a  passenger.  He  watched  the  light 
of  the  Fatherland  far  below,  and  wondered  if 
the  Baron  were  still  pacing  her  decks. 

"The  devil!"  sputtered  Count  von  Essenhendel. 
You  say  you  have  failed.  I  sent  you  to  England 
to  succeed.  A  German  should  never  return  with 
such  a  tale.  You  have  failed!  Out  of  my  sight, 
then — be  gone!" 

"But  you  will  listen,  I  hope — just  a  little!" 
pleaded  the  distracted  Baron.  I  did  my  best.  He 
is  one  clever  fellow,  this  son  of  yours.  He  will 
not  permit  any  man  to  lead  him  by  the  nose." 

"So!" 

"Even  so,  my  dear  Count." 

"But  that  is  no  reason.  You  didn't  have  to  lead 
him  by  the  nose.  Damn  it!  I  didn't  send  you  to 
England  to  subordinate  a  son  of  mine.  You 
couldn't  force  a  Von  Essenhendel !  You  should  have 
persuaded  him." 

"Ah,  my  dear  Count,  you  speak  the  truth.  It's 
impossible  to  force  a  Von  Essenhendel,  and  it 
would  seem  quite  as  difficult  to  persuade  one.  The 
father  is  even  more  unreasonable  than  the  son !" 

The  Count  understood — or  tried  to.  He  sat  for 
a  moment,  drawing  his  purplish  lips  tightly  over 
his  teeth,  as  if  trying  to  control  his  temper.  The 
Baron's  failure  was  a  thing  inconceivable  to  him. 


A  FAILURE  237 

"But  what  was  Ellinda  doing  all  the  while?  Has 
she  no  sense?  Has  she  no  idea  oi  respon- 
sibility ?" 

"Ellinda  tried,  Count.  Believe  me,  she  did  all 
in  her  power.  I  tell  you  this  son  is  no  ordinary 
man  Did  you  not  read  his  London  speech?" 

"Yes,  yes.  A  lot  of  rot — his  head's  stuffed  with 
ideas." 

"And  yet  he  has  his  father's  brains,"  said  the 
Baron,  resorting  to  an  attempt  at  irony 

"That  I  know!  The  boys  all  right — I'm  not 
saying  anything  against  him.  All  he  needs  is  a 
good  German  wiie  I  thought  your  daughter  would 
do,  but  you've  wasted  your  time  and  my  money. 
It  seems  your  daughter  will  not  suit — my  sen  must 
look  for  another  " 

"Perhaps  you  could  help  me  to  win  him  over, 
my  dear  Count " 

"Win  ? — the  devil  Pay  you  to  do  your  work ! — 
then  do  it  for  you  afterwards?  Get  out  of  my 
sight!" 

"I've  done  the  best  J  could!"  whimpered  the  old 
man,  rising  to  go 

"Leave  me'"  shouted  the  Count,  who  was  be- 
ginning to  pace  the  floor. 

"Oh,  Uncle!  you  will  not  be  mean  to  an  old 
man,  will  you?"  cried  Carlina,  the  pretty  niece, 
who  ran  into  the  room,  just  then — her  soft  white 
robes  fluttering  as  she  swept  past  the  defeated 
Baron. 


238  THE   INVADER'S   SON 

"I'm  mean  to  no  one.  I've  fed  and  clothed  this 
cringing  hypocrite  for  four  years  to  enable  him  to 
accomplish  something.  He  comes  back,  and 
whines,  'I  can't!'  Leave  me,  Carlina." 

"Think  of  my  poor  Frederick !"  said  the  girl,  be- 
ginning to  cry. 

"Your  poor  Frederick,  indeed!  He  can  become 
a  waiter  in  an  English  hotel — they  prefer  German 
waiters !" 

"Think,  Uncle,  what  you  are  doing!" 

There  was  despair  in  the  young  lady's  very 
tones.  She  sank  hopelessly  defeated  on  one  of  the 
large  upholstered  chairs,  and  covered  her  face  with 
her  hands. 

"I  did  the  best  I  could !"  whined  the  Baron  again. 

"What  would  you  have  me  do?"  the  Count 
stormed  at  him.  Haven't  I  been  liberal  to  a  fault? 
Haven't  I  fed  you?  I — I — took  you  out  of  abject 
poverty  in  Berlin,  and  made  a  nobleman  of  you  for 
four  years — kept  you  in  splendor!  What  would 
you!" 

The  Count  quickened  his  pace,  and  lit  and  threw 
away  several  cigarettes. 

At  this  outburst  of  vehemence,  the  Baron  almost 
sprang  off  the  floor  at  the  last,  "What  would  you !" 

"Please,  Uncle,  listen  to  reason.  The  Baron  has 
done  everything  he  could." 

"I  did  my  best!"  repeated  the  Baron  for  the 
tenth  time. 

"Away!  I  say.    What  would  both  of  you!" 


A  FAILURE  239 

"My  poor  Frederick!  For  Frederick's  sake, 
Uncle." 

"My  son " 

"The  devil!  your  son — out!  out!  out!" 

Carlina  fell  at  the  Count's  feet  and  began  to  beg. 

"What  would  you!"  he  shouted  again. 

"My  poor  Frederick!"  was  all  she  could  say. 

"Yes,  yes,  you  cry  'My  poor  Frederick!'  But 
what  would  you !" 

"May  I  have  my  Frederick?" 

"Who  said  you  couldn't  have  him?  Take  him! 
Take  the  whole  Von  Kielstadt  family!  Only  leave 
me!" 

Carlina  dried  her  tears,  and  tried  to  kiss  the 
blustering  Count,  but  he  kept  out  of  her  reach  by 
standing  erect.  His  frontal  avoirdupois  made  a 
sufficient  barrier.  Then  finally  she  led  the  Baron 
out,  calling  back,  "Thank  you,  Uncle!" 

The  Count  slammed  the  door. 

A  few  minutes  later,  Dr.  Badenheim  entered. 
He  found  the  Count  sitting  in  his  deep  leather 
chair,  looking  very  red,  with  purplish  spots  under 
his  eyes  and  about  his  mouth.  He  was  still  fuming 
and  sputtering.  Paintings  of  Von  Essenhendels 
on  the  wall  seemed  to  be  approving  of  the  Count 
for  living  up  to  the  ideals  of  the  house. 

"What  on  earth?"  began  the  lawyer. 

"That  son  of  mine  has  defeated  our  plans.  He 
wouldn't  fall  in  with  our  schemings.  Everything 
was  lovely  up  to  a  week  ago — Ellinda  von  Kiel- 


240  THE   INVADER'S   SON 

stadt  wrote  she  expected  to  become  engaged  at 
once,  and  here  this  morning,  the  old  Baron  comes 
in  and  pleads  failure." 

"So!" 

"And  think  of  the  money  I've  advanced!" 

"It's  too  bad,  Count." 

"And  the  plan  to  force  Raoul  Beauvais  out  of 
the  Company  is  not  working  any  too  well,  is  it?" 

It  was  now  Dr.  Badenheim's  turn  to  assume  the 
defensive.  Before  replying,  he  twisted  the  up- 
turned ends  of  his  moustache,  and  pulled  at  the 
lower  corners  of  his  waistcoat,  while  there  was  a 
note  of  impatience  in  Von  Essenhendel's  attitude. 

"Lederfrank's  report  to  me,  Count,  is  not  en- 
couraging. He  says  Beauvais  is  going  to  fight  to 
hold  his  shares." 

"Now,  Doctor,  you  and  I  have  been  friends  a 
long  time.  I  tell  you — I  warn  you  that  my  plans 
must  not  fail.  I  can  dare  anything,  risk  anything, 
but  I  cannot  endure  defeat." 

Dr.  Badenheim  spurred  himself  to  meet  the 
attack. 

"But  look  here,  Count,  you're  lapsing  into  the 
old  fault  of  the  Germans.  They  cannot  endure 
defeat.  Remember  the  armistice  signed  with  the 
United  States  and  the  Allies  in  1918." 

"Never  mind  about  that!  This  boy  of  mine 
must  be  watched;  must  be  induced  to  marry  a 
German  girl,  if  possible.  The  Baron  says  he  is 
now  traveling  in  Germany,  but  will  go  back  to 


A  FAILURE  241 

Ste.  Genevieve  shortly.  I  suppose  you  and  Leder- 
frank  must  see  to  it,  for  then,  if  anything  goes 
amiss,  I  can  blame  you — do  you  understand?" 

"Your  statements  are  perfectly  clear." 

"No,  they're  not.  I  haven't  finished.  That  part 
of  my  plans  referring  to  Paul — yes,  that's  clear. 
Well,  listen  to  me:  you  and  Lederfrank  mustn't 
fail  to  get  me  those  shares — understand!  If  you 
fail,  the  Devil  will  make  me  stir  up  a  row  that  will 
shake  the  earth — this  part  of  it  anyway.  Get  my 
full  meaning! — you  mustn't  fail!" 

"Oh!  but  you  mustn't  be  unreasonable,  Count." 

Dr.  Badenheim  got  up,  and  kicked  out  his 
square-toed  boots  as  if  to  straighten  his  trousers. 

''I've  always  known  you  to  be  most  just — if 
sometimes  unreasonable.  You're  charitable,  pro- 
vided you  have  your  way.  Few  men  would  have 
troubled  to  help  Beauvais.  I've  said  to  myself  it 
was  an  insane  thing  to  do.  Frankly,  I  could  never 
understand  you.  You  were  guilty  of  what  soldiers 
have  done  for  thousands  of  years — why  should 
you  have  taken  it  so  much  to  heart?  It's  all  very 
well  about  that  hand-to-hand  fight  in  the  trench — 
the  impression  the  Frenchman  made  on  you; — 
even  the  impression  that  the  wife  made  on  you — 
but  it's  bosh." 

"Do  you  wish  me  to  understand  that  you  pre- 
sume to  criticize?" 

"Oh !  now,  we'll  not  get  into  that.  Don't  misun- 
derstand me!  You  have  the  right  to  do  whatever 


242  THE   INVADER'S   SON 

you  like  with  Beauvais,  or  the  Beauvais.  It's  per- 
haps noble  of  you  to  want  to  make  recompense — or 
benefit  this  young  man,  but,  if  he  will  not  allow 
you,  why  trouble?" 

"I  will  not  be  turned  from  my  course.  That's 
just  the  point,  Doctor — you  mustn't  fail." 

Dr.  Badenheim  was  looking  out  the  century-old 
window,  and  pretended  to  be  following  the  course 
of  a  small  boat  on  the  Rhine. 

Count  von  Essenhendel  continued : 

"Don't  you  understand  that  a  German  can  never 
take  defeat?" 

The  Doctor  turned  slowly,  and  smiled  at  him 
steadily. 

"But  they  have  taken  defeat,  Count.  They  have 
suffered  greater  humiliation  than  ever  did  Napo- 
leon, or  any  of  the  previous  peoples  of  earth." 

"I  can't  help  it!  If  my  plans  go  wrong,  I'm  all 
undone !" 

"That's  why  I  say  you're  wrong.  You've  done 
an  extraordinary  piece  of  work — charity,  if  you 
wish  to  call  it  that.  I'd  say  it's  expensive  folly. 
Anyway,  I  consider  that  you've  done  more  than 
could  have  been  demanded  of  you,  even  by  the 
moral  law,  and  the  rule  of  thumbs  of  the  prophets. 
But  leave  it.  I  don't  wish  to  spoil  it  all  for  you 
by  trying  to  prove  that  you  have  made  a  silly  ass 
of  yourself.  Furthermore,  to  be  good  and 
obedient,  I'll  try  to  do  whatever  I  can  to  wed 
your  son  to  a  German,  and  I'll  also  prove  to  be 


A  FAILURE  243 

a  paradox  by  demanding  the   sale  of   Beauvais' 
shares." 

"You  don't  need  to  be  sarcastic.  I  can't  listen 
to  your  twaddle.  If  you  don't  wish  to  carry  out 
my  commands  without  talking  back,  leave  me! 
My  will  must  be  complied  with.  I  can't  endure  de- 
feat!" 


CHAPTER  XX 

THREE  YOUNG  MEN 

ALL  day  the  three  brothers,  Paul,  Alfred,  and 
Victor,  dodged  about  the  streets  of  Brussels,  pur- 
chasing presents  for  their  sisters  and  mother,  and 
something  now  and  again  for  the  father. 

"I've  such  a  collection  of  things  from  London 
and  Heidelberg,  and  with  these  added,  what  shall 
I  do?"  asked  Paul,  when  they  were  packing  in  the 
hotel.  He  was  perspiring,  but  looked  very  happy 
in  the  midst  of  the  medley  of  packages  and  boxes. 

"Can't  help  you,"  replied  Alfred  and  Victor. 

"See  this  dainty  thing!"  exclaimed  Alfred  in 
despair,  holding  up  a  lace  head-dress;  "it's  sure  to 
be  ruined  in  this  trunk." 

"Petite  Hermance  will  wonder  what  happened  to 
this  package  of  ribbons — if  this  bottle  of  perfume 
is  spilled,"  said  Victor,  struggling  away  over  in 
the  corner. 

The  busy  hum  of  motor  vehicles  came  up  from 
the  streets  below,  and  the  regular  line  of  passenger 
airplanes  were  making  a  noisy  crossing  just  over- 
head, but  the  brothers  were  unmindful  of  the  outer 
world. 

At  last  they  were  off  for  home.  For  years  they 
had  come  and  gone  at  vacation  time,  but  now  they 
were  returning  to  remain — to  find  places  for  them- 
selves in  the  life  of  Ste.  Genevieve.  Their  educa- 

244 


THREE  YO  UNG  MEN  245 

tions,  as  far  as  universities  and  special  tutors  could 
go,  had  been  completed,  and  it  only  remained  for 
them  to  add  to  their  skeleton  foundations  by  be- 
ginning life  in  real  earnest.  It  would  be  a  part 
of  their  work  to  construct  the  palaces  or  hovels  of 
their  future. 

Mother  and  father  and  sisters  met  them  at  the 
railway  station  in  the  home  town.  Marie  and 
Ptfft'te-Hermance,  beautiful  girls  just  home  from 
the  Convent,  were  beside  themselves  with  joy — to 
them,  big  brothers  were  extraordinary  personages. 
The  mother  wept  from  sheer  excitement,  like  all 
mothers  do,  and  the  father  said,  for  the  lack  of 
anything  better,  ''Glad  your  educations  are  finished, 
boys.  Welcome  to  you."  And  there  were  friends 
hanging  back  in  the  crowd,  waiting  for  the  family 
greeting  to  be  finished. 

Alfred  kept  a  careful  watch  on  his  father,  and 
although  the  polite  Frenchman  went  out  of  his  way 
to  say  something  to  Paul,  Alfred  thought  it  fell 
short  of  the  welcome  that  should  have  been  ex- 
tended, for  since  that  night  several  years  before, 
when  M.  Beauvais  had  told  Alfred  that  he  had 
been  selected  as  the  future  head  of  the  Beauvais 
family,  the  latter  had  concluded  his  father  must 
harbor  some  disapproval  of  Paul. 

Then,  of  course,  there  was  the  open  breach 
caused  by  Paul's  advocacy  of  the  International  Re- 
public. Paul's  letter  to  M.  Beauvais  declaring  his 
independence  would  not  soon  be  forgiven. 


246  THE  INVADER'S  SON 

"Papa,  I  say  you  mustn't  be  sulky.  Go  on  up 
to  Paul  and  say  to  him  again  you're  glad  he  has 
come  home.  Put  some  heart  into  it — go  on!"  and 
Alfred  pushed  his  father  forward. 

M.  Beauvais  did  go  to  Paul  and  say  something 
more,  which  Alfred  could  not  hear.  However, 
the  second  son  had  gained  his  point — and  didn't 
wish  to  inspect  too  closely  how  his  father  had  com- 
plied. 

"That's  it.  Paul  is  just  the  finest  man  in  the 
world,  and  I'm  not  going  to  stand  your  snubbing 
while  I'm  around — understand,  father?  It  hurts 
me."  But  M.  Beauvais  paid  little  attention. 

Many  persons  sent  cards  of  welcome ;  the  neigh- 
bors called,  and  the  evening,  at  the  Chateau  Mores- 
tier,  was  filled  with  enjoyable  incidents  which 
would  be  always  remembered.  Dr.  Anson  Joumon- 
ville  was  there — the  old  Doctor  and  good  Father 
Pelletier  were  both  dead.  Grand'mere  Dauphin, 
just  a  week  over  ninety-seven  years  old,  was 
wheeled  into  the  chateau  in  a  chair.  She  had 
nearly  lost  her  hearing,  but  could  see  well,  and  had 
many  quaint  things  to  say. 

"Hermance,"  she  began  aside,  while  the  smart 
younger  generation  came  in,  "Paul  has  the  same 
satisfied  expression  he  used  to  wear  when  you  car- 
ried him  to  the  fields  to  lie  in  the  shade  and  play 
with  his  toes  while  you  worked." 

Old  Roger,  the  joker,  had  also  come,  hobbling 
on  his  wooden  leg  and  two  canes.  He  was  well 


THREE  YOUNG  MEN  247 

over  eighty,  and  could  not  boast  a  single  tooth  in 
his  mouth.  His  jokes  were  always  to  the  point, 
however,  and  he  stood  by  pouring  forth  a  volley 
to  the  company  of  guests,  feeling  it  his  duty  to  be 
faithful  to  his  role. 

Dr.  Joumonville  arose  at  the  end  of  the  long  table, 
in  the  dining  room,  and  made  an  appropriate  after 
dinner  talk,  in  which  he  stated  that  M.  Beauvais 
and  Madame  should  be  proud  of  their  children. 

"You  have  reared  them  in  the  full  strength  of 
modern  usefulness.  There  are  two  pretty  daugh- 
ters, reflections  of  their  mother's  graces;  and  there 
are  three  sons — one  a  musician  of  note,  one  a 
painter  of  great  promise,  and  one  destined  to  be 
a  man  of  affairs  and  a  statesman." 

Throughout  the  home  festivities,  Madame 
Morestier,  who  was  still  clinging  to  life  by  a  mere 
thread,  remained  silent,  but  seemed  childishly 
happy.  The  last  years  of  her  existence  had  been 
spent  in  a  sort  of  pathetic  reverie.  Before  the  Great 
War,  she  was  a  greedy  reader  of  books  and  maga- 
zines; and  again  she  read  much  in  the  library. 
Something  had  slipped  in  the  machinery  of  her 
mind,  leaving  her  peculiarly  serene  and  quiet,  but 
ever  and  anon  she  surprised  Madame  Beauvais  and 
her  husband  by  giving  expression  to  snatches  of 
prophecy.  At  such  times,  she  appeared  to  be  speak- 
ing in  a  trance.  Often  she  strove  in  the  byways  of 
history,  and  after  recounting  accurately  a  long  series 
of  events,  launched  into  wonderful  interpretations 


248  THE   INVADER'S   SON 

of  the  meanings  of  those  things  to  future  genera- 
tions. Again,  she  discoursed  on  the  happenings  of 
everyday  occurrence.  M.  Beauvais  would  listen  to 
her  and  ask  questions,  but  she  could  never  weave  in 
anything  from  without.  Her  mind  acted  apparently 
in  some  inexplainable  sphere  of  independence.  A 
moment  after  these  outbursts,  she  lapsed  into  an 
innocent  feebleness  that  was  pitiable. 

Dr.  Joumonville  studied  her  case,  and  said  her 
intellect,  at  intervals,  was  aroused,  and  while  in 
activity,  reviewed  accumulated  stores  of  knowledge, 
as  if  freed  from  shackles  fastened  upon  her  in 
sufferings  on  the  night  of  the  invasion.  However, 
he  had  no  explanation  for  her  wise  comments  on 
matters  of  commonplace. 

That  night,  after  neighbors  had  gone,  and  the 
family  continued  to  sit  and  talk,  Madame  Mores- 
tier  looked  upon  the  group,  and  began  to  speak: 

"My  children,  put  me  now  on  the  couch,  for  I 
would  talk  before  the  night  wears  longer." 

They  laid  her  on  the  couch,  which  was  made 
especially  for  her. 

"Bien!"  she  said. 

"Is  there  anything  you  want,  mother?''  asked 
Madame  Beauvais. 

"A  little  cordial,  if  you  please." 

Paul  brought  a  bottle  and  a  tiny  glass. 

"Thank  you,  my  son;  you  are  very  kind — you 
have  a  good  heart,"  the  frail  old  lady  said. 

"Shall  we  go?"  asked  M.  Beauvais. 


THREE  YO  UNG  MEN  249 

"No,  my  eldest  son;  you,  Hermance,  and  all  the 
children  remain." 

They  stood  grouped  about  the  couch,  ready  to 
say  good-night.  Helene,  the  maid,  who  slept  in 
her  room,  was  already  at  the  door,  awaiting  her 
mistress's  pleasure. 

"Helene,"  said  Madame  Morestier,  "I  shall  not 
require  you  tonight.  You  have  been  faithful. 
Good-bye,  and  God  bless  you,  Helene,  for  having 
cared  for  an  old  woman." 

Madame  Beauvais  went  to  the  door,  and  told  the 
maid  to  wait  outside  awhile. 

"I  fear  you  are  tiring  yourself,  Grand'mdre" 
said  /Vfr'fc-Hermance. 

"No,  no,  my  little  granddaughter,  I've  strength 
of  which  you  know  not — if  it  will  only  last  for  me 
to  speak." 

"Perhaps  you'd  better  sleep,  mother,"  suggested 
M.  Beauvais;  "you'll  be  stronger  to  speak  to- 
morrow. The  excitement  has  been  too  great  for 
you  tonight." 

There  seemed  to  be  stealing  over  the  family 
group  a  foreboding  of  fear.  Hermance  and  the 
children  expressed  this  in  occasional  clearings  of 
their  throats. 

Madame  Morestier  continued: 

"I've  been  living  for  this  night,  my  elder  son." 
She  always  referred  to  Raoul  as  her  elder  son.  "I 
shall  soon  sleep  the  peaceful  sleep." 

Hermance  began  to  weep  silently. 


250  THE   INVADER'S   SON 

Madame  Morestier  motioned  for  them  to  be 
seated. 

"Over  the  land  has  passed  a  great  storm.  It  is 
some  time  since  that  peace  has  come  upon  the  world 
following  this  storm.  There  has  been  an  attempt 
at  unifying  peoples  of  the  earth.  Politicians  and 
patriots,  for  gain,  have  persuaded  the  nations  to 
believe  the  war  has  gone  forever.  How  foolish  is 
the  behavior  of  nations !" 

She  seemed  lapsing  into  a  detached  state,  and 
they  recognized  her  words  were  prophetic.  She 
repeated : 

"Over  the  land  has  passed  a  great  storm."  Then 
as  if  struggling  to  pick  up  the  thread  again,  she 
said :  "It  was  the  unrest  of  nations  seeking  a  balm, 
a  solution  to  problems  too  great  for  the  minds  of 
men.  The  earth  came  in  for  a  scourging — terrible 
missiles  of  steel  have  furrowed  the  fields.  Trees 
were  shivered,  and  the  warhorse  trampled  grasses 
and  flowers.  Blood  soaked  the  village  greens  and 
the  hillsides,  and  there  were  groanings  of  the 
wounded  by  day  and  night.  Many  millions  never 
returned  from  the  fields  of  battles.  Widows  and 
orphans  wait  until  this  day,  and  start  at  the  stirring 
of  a  leaf. 

"Then  there  came  a  respite.  Old  generations 
have  been  disappearing.  The  new  is  already  stand- 
ing with  hands  on  the  knocker,  and,  behold!  I,  an 
old  woman,  who  has  been  looked  upon,  for  these 
twenty-five  years,  as  demented,  now  see  beyond 


THREE  YO UNG  MEN  25 1 

this  vale  into  a  future  that  shall  be  blessed  with 
peace. 

"Today,  I  said:  'Permit  me  to  see,  and  I  shall 
go  in  peace.'  I  closed  my  eyes,  and  lo!  three  young 
men,  comely  and  upright,  came  to  me  singly  that  I 
might  see. 

"The  youngest  drew  near  me.  He  made  music 
on  a  stringed  instrument,  music  exceedingly  plain- 
tive and  sweet.  His  brow  was  fair — he  would 
cheer  the  world.  I  said :  'Go  on,  my  son,  and  play 
to  the  multitudes.  Look  on  the  faces  of  maids, 
but  beware!' 

"The  second  young  man  in  age  came  and  de- 
clared his  devotion  to  art.  He  would  live  in  the 
galleries  of  the  world,  and  trace  on  canvas,  marvel- 
ous subtleties  of  beauty.  He  was  clean  of  heart, 
and  not  given  to  covetousness.  Riches  of  earth 
were  not  tempting  to  him,  neither  did  he  desire 
contention.  I  said:  1  see  the  young  man  possess- 
ing divine  inspiration — go  and  worship  at  the  feet 
of  the  masters.' ' 

Her  eyes  closed,  and  she  breathed  softly.  M. 
Beauvais  and  his  wife  and  the  children  stood  about 
as  if  rooted  to  the  floor.  Their  breathing  was  audi- 
ble, and  no  one  spoke,  lest  the  spell  be  broken. 
They  looked  anxiously  at  one  another. 

Again  she  moved  slightly,  and  said:  "My 
strength  is  passing.  Open  the  window  and  give 
me  air." 

Marie  threw  open  the  hinged  sash,  and  the  moon- 


252  THE   INVADER'S  SON 

light  streamed  in  to  aid  the  single  frosted  electrical 
bulb. 

Finally,  Madame  Morestier  resumed  as  follows: 
"And  there  came  yet  the  third  and  oldest,  a 
strong  man,  much  loved  by  his  two  brothers.  His 
coming  was  hindered  by  shackles  which  an  enemy 
was  trying  to  fasten  on  him,  and  out  of  the  world 
arose  cries  for  help.  This  young  man  was  unlike 
his  brothers,  and  he  turned  ever  to  the  appeals  of 
the  four  corners,  as  if  he  would  go  to  them.  His 
face  was  open.  Selfishness  had  never  defiled  him. 
Out  of  the  muddle  of  sounds  and  struggles  ap- 
peared two  goddesses — one  of  Liberty  and  the 
other  of  Imperial  dignity  that  confronted  him  and 
said:  'Choose  whom  you  will  serve.'  Two  men 
stood  by  him  also,  and  waited  on  his  decision." 

Once  more  the  shriveled  eyelids  closed,  and  she 
was  still.  They  waited  long,  but  there  was  no 
awakening. 


CHAPTER  XXI 

A  FORMAL  CORRESPONDENCE 

MADAME  BEAUVAIS  had  scored  the  first  victory  in 
championing  Paul.     The  same  night  she  and  M. 
Beauvais  came  to.  an  understanding.     She  replied 
to  M.  Pierre  de  Robincourt's  letter  as  follows: 
"My  dear  M.  de  Robincourt: 

"Your  letter  to  my  husband  regarding  my 
son  Paul's  early  attachment  for  your  daugh- 
ter, Mademoiselle  Yvonne,  received.  M.  Beau- 
vais has  been  much  occupied  these  last  days, 
and,  inasmuch  as  I  have  always  been  responsi- 
ble for  Paul,  and,  by  arrangement,  his  educa- 
tion is  under  my  direction,  your  message  has 
been  handed  to  me. 

"Permit  me,  my  dear  M.  de  Robincourt,  to 
express  to  you  my  very  great  satisfaction  that 
you  are  pleased  with  my  son  Paul,  and  that 
you  are  willing  he  should  pay  his  respects  to 
Mademoiselle  Yvonne.  M.  Beauvais  and  I 
consider  ourselves  honored,  and  acknowledge 
our  obligation  to  you  and  Madame  de  Robin- 
court. 

"For  the  present,  I  am  of  the  opinion  that 

the  interests  of  both  our  children  would  be 

best  conserved  if  you  and  I  agree  to  a  formal 

correspondence  between  them.  Paul  is  leaving 

253 


254  THE   INVADER'S   SON 

shortly  for  Paris  to  continue  his  education, 
and  afterwards  he  goes  to  England.  Several 
years  will  elapse  before  he  is  a  mature  man, 
and  such  a  relationship  as  I  suggest  could  not 
be  harmful  to  either  Mademoiselle  Yvonne  or 
Paul.  Furthermore,  you  and  I  could  always 
supervise  the  letters. 

"M.  Beauvais  will  write  to  yon  tomorrow, 
confirming  my  letter. 

"With  compliments  and  an  expression  of 
high  esteem  for  you,  Madame  de  Robincourt, 
and  Mademoiselle  Yvonne,  in  which  M.  Beau- 
vais would  be  included,  I  beg  to  remain, 

"Yours  most  sincerely, 
"HERMANCE  MORESTIER-BEAUVAIS." 
A  servant  was  dispatched  at  once  with  the  letter 
to  M.  de  Robincourt.    A  copy  had  been  made,  and 
M.  Beauvais  took  it  into  the  library  to  her  husband, 
who  was,  at  the  moment,  penning  his  reply  to  M. 
de  Robincourt's  communication. 

"Hermance,  I'm  astonished!  How  could  you!" 
M.  Beauvais  exclaimed,  when  he  glanced  at  the 
salutation. 

"Read  the  letter,  Raoul.  It  is  on  the  way  now 
to  M.  de  Robincourt — the  man,  Jacques,  is  taking 
it." 

For  the  first  time  in  their  married  life,  Raoul 
lost  control  of  his  temper,  to  the  extent  that  he  be- 
came red  in  the  face  from  anger.  He  jumped  to 
his  feet,  and  would  have  said  something,  had  Her- 


A  FORMAL  CORRESPONDENCE     255 

mance  not  looked  at  him  so  calmly.  With  an  effort, 
he  managed  to  keep  back  the  hot  words,  but  im- 
mediately left  the  room.  He  was  gone  some  time. 
Eventually,  he  returned  and  read  the  letter. 

"You'll  pardon  me,  Hermance?" 

"You've  said  nothing  for  which  you  should  ask 
forgiveness,"  she  said  sweetly. 

"But  I  felt  like  saying  things." 

"It  was  fine  of  you  to  control  yourself." 

"Yes;  but  you've  beaten  me,  Hermance.  I  must 
be  fair  and  give  up  when  I  see  you've  outgeneraled 
me."  For  with  all  of  Raoul's  faults,  and  his  in- 
tense jealousy  toward  Paul,  no  one  could  doubt 
his  better  nature  was  presided  over  by  a  good  heart. 

M.  Beauvais  took  up  his  paper  and  wrote  a  brief 
letter  to  de  Robincourt,  expressing  his  pleasure  and 
compliments,  and  confirming  his  wife's  note.  He 
put  the  superscription  on  the  envelope,  and  handed 
the  letter  to  Hermance  to  send  on  the  next  day. 

"Thank  you,  Raoul;  in  this,  you  have  reassured 
me  of  what  I  have  always  known — that  you  are 
a  great  man.  I  expected  you  to  be  angry.  I  would 
have  forgiven  you  for  becoming  violent  in  speech — 
as  a  human  being,  you  were  entitled  to  your  ex- 
pression to  savage  inclinations,  but  it  was  noble 
of  you  to  restrain  yourself.  If  a  man  ever  de- 
served credit  for  being  grand  in  spirit,  you've 
earned  the  palm.  How  sweet  of  you  to  acknowl- 
edge defeat  and  write  this  letter!" 

The  formal  correspondence  was  started.    Dainty 


256  THE   INVADER'S   SON 

notes  on  perfumed  paper  were  exchanged  fre- 
quently after  Paul  went  to  Paris.  M.  de  Robin- 
court  censored  these  communications,  and,  in  time, 
they  settled  down  to  about  an  average  of  one  letter 
a  month.  They  were  in  no  sense  love-letters.  The 
nearest  they  ever  came  to  getting  over  the  border 
was  when  Mademoiselle  Yvonne  informed  Paul  of 
Alfred's  attentions  to  her.  Paul  supposed  M.  Beau- 
vais  to  be  back  of  this  attempt,  and  put  a  good  deal 
of  feeling  in  several  letters,  which  remained  un- 
noticed by  Yvonne.  Finally  she  set  him  at  ease 
about  Alfred,  and  again  settled  back  into  ordinary 
friendship  epistles. 

On  returning  at  vacation  times,  Paul  called  once 
or  twice,  but  was  always  a  family  guest.  This  con- 
tinued for  two  years,  then  Paul  remained  in  Eng- 
land. Afterwards,  for  more  than  four  years, 
owing  to  circumstances  which  neither  was  fit  to 
control,  he  had  not  seen  Yvonne,  but  the  monthly 
letters  came  regularly  to  both. 

Hence  nothing  had  come  of  the  beautiful  bud 
of  a  love  affair  started  almost  seven  years  before. 
Hard  study  diverted  Paul's  mind,  and  absence  of 
the  young  knight  left  in  Yvonne's  memory  only  a 
romantic  and  pleasant  recollection,  over  which  she 
often  smiled  and  day  dreamed.  She  began  to 
wonder  what  this  young  man  could  be  like.  When 
the  French  papers  were  commenting  on  his  Queen's 
Hall  speech,  she  raised  her  eyebrows  in  inquiry. 

Another  circumstance  had  a  depressing  effect. 


A  FORMAL  CORRESPONDENCE     257 

M.  de  Robincourt  and  M.  Beauvais  took  issue,  one 
with  the  other,  on  political  questions.  M.  de  Robin- 
court  had  been  representing  the  district  as  a 
Deputy.  At  the  election  four  years  before,  M. 
Beauvais  refused  to  support  his  friend,  and  went 
to  the  extreme  of  doing  everything  in  his  power  to 
prevent  M.  de  Robincourt's  return  to  the  Chamber 
of  Deputies.  However,  the  opposition  failed,  but 
it  left  strained  relations  between  the  old  friends, 
although  there  was  one  brief  interval  when  it 
seemed  the  difference  would  be  forgotten.  Several 
calls  were  exchanged,  and  Alfred  painted  a  portrait 
of  Mademoiselle  Yvonne.  But  shortly  afterwards, 
a  bill  of  importance  came  up  to  the  house,  in  Paris, 
and  M.  Beauvais  was  so  unfortunate  as  to  write 
to  M.  de  Robincourt — whom  he  had  not  helped  to 
elect — urging  him  to  vote  for  the  measure.  The 
gruff  Deputy's  stinging  reply  destroyed  the  patched- 
up  friendship.  Therefore,  when  Paul  and  his 
brothers  returned,  full-grown  men,  the  de  Robin- 
court  prospect  was  not  at  all  encouraging.  Times 
and  people's  ways  had  changed. 

As  might  be  expected,  M.  de  Robincourt  was  of 
the  old  school  of  statesmen.  He  believed  in  a 
strong,  centralized  government,  as  near  autocracy 
as  possible.  All  new  proposals  were  measured  by 
him  with  the  conservative  standard  he  kept  brightly 
burnished  in  his  mind.  But  for  his  narrow  views 
and  unwillingness  to  be  progressive,  he  would  have 
been  taken  into  the  cabinet  of  ministers.  His  name 


258  THE   INVADER'S   SON 

was  proposed  a  number  of  times,  but  dropped  by 
the  President  and  leaders  as  being  the  red  flag  in 
the  Chamber  to  invite  an  immediate  overthrow  of 
the  Ministry. 

Of  course,  de  Robincourt  sneered  at  the  Inter- 
national Republic  idea.  When  criticisms  came  on 
Paul's  venturesome  speech,  he  laughed.  "Just  like 
his  crazy  father!"  he  said  to  Mademoiselle  Yvonne, 
who  had  read  him  the  paragraph  out  of  the  Echo 
de  Paris.  He  went  on  further  to  say  that  evidently 
the  Beauvais  family  had  spent  money  in  vain  on 
Paul.  To  fill  a  youngster's  head  with  rank  modern- 
isms, was  to  poison  his  mind  and  make  him  a 
dangerous  man  to  society. 

Mademoiselle  Yvonne  did  not  know.  Secretly, 
she  resented  such  wholesale  condemnation  by  her 
father.  She  did  not  like  to  see  Paul's  name  coupled 
with  new  things,  for,  naturally,  she  was  also  of  the 
old  imperial  stock,  and  filled  to  overflowing  with 
the  teachings  of  her  father.  Perhaps,  after  all,  the 
young  dream  of  her  girlhood,  which  she  could 
never  forget,  was  so  unlike  the  stern  realities  of 
life  that  it  would  be  blighted  by  time.  But  what 
did  it  matter?  She  had  not  seen  Paul  for  years. 
No  doubt  he  had  changed — if  he  had  fondled  the 
beautiful  dream  of  their  meeting  as  she  had  done, 
perhaps  he  was  beginning  to  discover  other  things 
that  claimed  more  of  his  attention.  His  letters  were 
scholarly — sometimes  enthusiastic  over  strange 
things:  the  comity  of  nations,  brotherly  love  of 


A  FORMAL  CORRESPONDENCE     259 

nationalities,  everlasting  peace.     Probably  he  had 
developed  into  a  modern  David  Rossi. 

A  few  days  after  Paul's  return  home — and  the 
funeral  rites  of  Madame  Morestier  had  been  per- 
formed,— he  inquired  of  his  mother  if  a  card  of 
welcome,  or  a  note,  had  come  for  him  from 
Mademoiselle  Yvonne.  He  was  informed  nothing 
had  been  received.  Possibly  the  young  lady  did  not 
know  he  was  at  home,  since  he  had  not  written 
from  Heidelberg  or  Brussels. 

Therefore,  Paul  wrote  a  formal  note,  stating  his 
university  courses  had  been  completed,  enabling 
him  to  return  home,  and  he  would  be  pleased  to  call 
on  Mademoiselle  Yvonne,  if  such  met  with  her  ap- 
proval, and  the  approval  of  M.  de  Robincourt,  and 
Madame  de  Robincourt,  to  whom  he  begged  she 
would  graciously  convey  his  compliments.  Made- 
moiselle Yvonne  replied  promptly,  in  the  following 
formal  lines: 
"My  dear  Paul : 

"Your  compliments  received,  announcing 
the  completion  of  your  education  and  return 
to  Ste.  Genevieve,  and  I  have  mentioned  the 
same  to  my  father  and  mother. 

"I  cannot  be  forgetful  of  the  fact  that  you 
saved  my  life  on  one  occasion,  for  which  I 
shall  ever  be  indebted  to  you;  but  in  view  of 
the  estrangement  existing  between  our  fathers, 
and  of  differences  of  my  own  opinions  on 
some  questions,  I  regret  that  it  does  not  seem 


260  THE   INVADER'S   SOX 

proper  for  me  to  extend  to  you  an  invitation  to 
call  at  my  father's  Chateau. 

"Our  friendship  has  been  constant,  and  it  is 
my  wish  that  it  so  continue. 
"As  ever, 

Your  friend, 

"YVONNE  DE  ROBINCOURT." 
Paul  read  the  note  and  re-read  it — "and  of  dif- 
ferences of  my  own  opinions  on  some  questions," 
he  kept  repeating  as  he  sought  his  mother  and 
handed  her  the  sheet.  Hermance  read  it,  and  said : 
"Keep  your  own  counsel  for  the  present." 

But  Paul  went  to  his  room,  and  placed  Yvonne's 
letter  in  the  package  of  her  previous  replies.  As 
other  sentimental  young  men  have  always  done, 
he  bound  the  bundle  with  a  bit  of  ribbon,  and  care- 
fully laid  it  away.  The  formal  correspondence 
was  closed. 


CHAPTER  XXII 

THE    FIRST    SKIRMISH 

"You  were  honorable  in  acknowledging  your  first 
defeat,"  said  Madame  Beauvais  to  her  husband, 
and  although  it  has  been  years  since  it  occurred,  I 
remember  it." 

"What  do  you  mean?"  asked  Raoul,  a  little  cross 
in  his  manner — business  of  late  was  worrying  him. 

"I  mean  you  have  acknowledged  you  have  won 
in  the  de  Robincourt  matter." 

"You're  not  yet  clear  in  your  statement." 

"Why,  Raoul,  your  disagreement  with  M.  de 
Robincourt  seems  to  have  interfered  with  the  fair 
prospects  of  Paul." 

"A  good  thing,  too!"  said  M.  Beauvais,  as  he 
went  off  in  a  hurry  to  the  office. 

At  that  point,  there  was  an  armistice  in  the 
efforts  of  Raoul  and  Hermance  to  advance  their 
champions. 

Immediately,  Raoul  had  his  first  disagreement 
with  Jacob  Lederfrank.  He  had  always  liked  the 
Jew,  and,  notwithstanding  tightening  of  the  coils 
that  threatened  the  Beauvais  holdings  in  the  busi- 
ness, he  had  not  discovered  Lederfrank's  hand.  In 
fact,  Lederfrank  was  guilty  of  no  fraud,  neither 
did  he  do  anything  wrong.  He  merely  carried  out 
the  wishes  of  his  overlord  on  the  Rhine,  without 

261 


262  THE   INVADER'S   SON 

seeking  to  know  reasons  for  the  orders.  But  the 
very  day  that  Madame  Beauvais  reminded  him 
of  Paul's  failure,  there  was  real  trouble  in  the 
office. 

Lederfrank  began  it. 

"Raoul,  in  working  out  our  business,  I  think  it 
wise  for  one  of  your  sons  to  come  into  the  factory, 
and  begin  to  prepare  to  take  your  place  when  you 
retire.  No  doubt  my  son,  Isaac,  is  already  far 
advanced  in  going  through  the  various  depart- 
ments." 

M.  Beauvais  had  foreseen  that  day,  and  half 
suspected  that  Lederfrank  would  want  to  take  Paul 
into  the  business. 

"I  think  I  can  manage  the  business  well  enough 
for  my  family  for  some  time  yet,"  was  Beauvais' 
rather  curt  remark. 

It  nettled  Lederfrank  for  the  moment,  and  under 
impulse  he  retorted : 

"The  right  to  choose  employees  is  entirely  in 
my  hands,  according  to  our  original  agreement, 
which  has  never  been  violated  by  either  of  us  to 
date." 

M.  Beauvais  searched  his  partner's  face  for  a 
full  minute.  Color  slowly  mounted  to  the  French- 
man's forehead,  and  he  replied  angrily: 

"Choose,  if  you  must!  One  thing  I  ask,  leave 
Paul  out  of  this.  We're  in  trouble  enough.  You 
know  my  feeling  towards  this  son.  If  he's  put  here 
in  my  way,  it'll  only  irritate  me." 


THE  FIRST  SKIRMISH  263 

"Paul's  my  choice,  sir.  You  can't  expect  me  to 
want  to  spoil  the  careers  of  your  other  sons — 
they're  entirely  unsuited  to  commerce." 

Beauvais  bounced  from  his  swiveled-chair,  and 
bolted  towards  the  door.  Recovering  somewhat, 
he  came  back — his  face  blanched  with  anger,  and 
said: 

"I've  reasons  why  I  don't  want  Paul  in  here." 

In  unmistakable  firmness,  Lederfrank  shot  back 
at  him : 

"And  whatever  they  are,  Raoul  Beauvais,  they're 
foolish  reasons.  Take  it  as  final.  Paul  is  to 
come  into  this  office.  I  think  it  best  for  him  to  work 
in  the  office  until  we  get  out  of  this  business  crisis. 
After  that,  he  should  go  below  and  come  on  up 
from  the  mining  of  the  crude  materials  to  the  sell- 
ing of  the  finished  product." 

Beauvais  shoved  several  things  about  on  his 
desk  before  sitting  down.  He  whirled  in  his  chair, 
as  if  to  make  a  deciding  protest,  but  ended  by  shout- 
ing at  Lederfrank: 

"Do  you  mean  to  say  that  you  propose  to  ride 
over  my  head?" 

"Yes,"  said  Lederfrank,  in  tones  that  equalled 
his  partner's  in  temper. 

"Then  I'll  sell  my  shares." 

"You  may  do  that,  too,  Beauvais.  Our  original 
contract  provides  for  just  that  contingency" 

"What  contingency!" 

"Why,  the  selling  of  your  shares !   Get  out  your 


264  THE   INVADER'S  SON 

copy  of  the  contract  and  read  it  before  we  discuss 
this  further,  and  perhaps  break  in  our  friend- 
ship." 

M.  Beauvais  frowned,  and  enraged  and  much 
preferring  to  have  had  an  out-and-out  quarrel, 
arose  and  went  to  his  private  safe  and  found  the 
yellowed  document.  He  had  not  really  read  it 
since  it  was  signed  about  twenty  years  before.  He 
took  plenty  of  time,  and  perused  it  slowly  twice, 
then  spoke  to  Lederf rank : 

"Well,  you'll  not  get  my  shares.  I  see  my  hands 
are  tied.  You're  just  as  shrewd  as  the  rest  of  the 
Hebrews.  If  I  object  to  follow  you,  I'm  lost — I 
must  sell  to  you  at  par.  You  don't  get  them!  I 
suppose  I'll  have  to  stand  for  Paul.  Employ  him, 
if  you  wish.  You'll  soon  find  his  high-flown  uni- 
versity ideas  won't  run  smoothly  in  making  and 
selling  fertilizer." 

"All  right,  sir.  Paul  will  be  here  in  an  hour.  I 
shall  employ  him,  and  on  terms  commensurate  with 
his  position  in  your  household.  Furthermore,  I 
warn  you  not  to  interfere  with  him." 

Again  M.  Beauvais  flared  up — it  was  too  much 
to  be  dictated  to  by  Lederfrank,  much  less  to  be 
warned  against  his  conduct  towards  Paul. 

"You're  going  too  far,  Lederfrank." 

"It's  my  right  to  insist  that  you  interfere  with 
no  one,  and  especially  with  your  son,  while  in  the 
employ  of  this  company.  So  reads  our  contract." 

"My  son  is  not  your  son." 


THE  FIRST  SKIRMISH  265 

"But  for  the  purpose  of  this  business,  Raoul, 
I'm  Paul  Beauvais'  employer." 

"Don't  cause  me  to  lose  my  head  altogether." 

"You're  too  sensible,  Raoul  Beauvais.  We've 
been  working  together  for  more  than  twenty  years. 
You've  had  evidence  of  my  fidelity  to  you.  I  made 
you  rich,  and  because  I  contrary  you  in  a  senseless 
jealousy  for  your  son,  the  brightest  and  brainiest 
of  your  family,  you  want  to  be  unreasonable.  Stop 
it  altogether !  I'm  not  going  to  stand  for  any  such 
nonsense." 

"If  you  knew  my  reason!"  Beauvais'  voice 
trembled  with  emotion. 

"Whatever  reason  you  may  have,  except  your 
insane  jealousy,  is  of  no  concern  to  me.  It's  none 
of  my  business,  and,  on  general  principles,  I  say 
you  have  no  right  to  be  jealous,  or  to  have  reasons. 
Suppose  Paul  Beauvais — suppose  anything.  The 
boy's  capable,  willing,  and  I'll  lay  you  a  bet  of 
one  thousand  francs  that  in  time  he'll  be  at  the 
head  of  this  establishment." 

"We  shall  not  discuss  it,  Lederfrank.  I  give  in 
because  I  have  to.  Do  as  you  like.  I'm  sorry  this 
discussion  took  place.  I  believe  in  you.  That's 
sufficient." 

"Never  mind,  Raoul.  You  leave  matters  to  me. 
I  like  Paul,  and  to  tell  you  the  truth,  I  have  built 
this  business  with  you  entirely  for  his  sake." 

There  seemed  to  be  no  warrant  for  this  last  re- 
mark, and  M.  Beauvais  took  no  notice  of  it. 


266  THE   INVADER'S   SON 

Leder frank  had  always  shown  preference  for 
Paul,  and  Beauvais  hoped  this  might  explain  the 
whim. 

"You  can  do  as  you  like,  I  said ;  nor  shall  I  inter- 
fere with  Paul.  I  shall  not  mention  my  disapproval 
to  him  here,  or  at  home." 

"That's  all  I  ask,  Raoul.  Be  fair  to  the  young 
man — to  the  devil  with  your  jealousy!" 

Paul  entered  the  office  at  that  moment. 

"Paul,"  said  Lederfrank,  "I've  asked  that  you 
come  here  for  a  purpose." 

"I'm  here,  Monsieur.  I  came  as  soon  as  I  could 
after  you  telephoned.  What  may  I  do  to  lessen 
your  worries?" 

Lederfrank  chuckled  a  little  at  the  young  man's 
pleasantry. 

"Well,  we  want  you  to  come  into  the  firm — 
that  is,  start  in  and  learn  the  business  as  my  son, 
Isaac,  is  doing,  so  you  and  he  may  run  things  after 
your  father  and  I  give  up." 

Paul  instinctively  cast  an  inquiring  glance  in  the 
direction  of  his  father.  M.  Beauvais'  face  was  an 
impenetrable  mask. 

"Shall  be  glad  to,  if  father  wishes  it." 

"M.  Lederfrank,  Paul,  has  charge  of  such  mat- 
ters, and  he  has  obtained  my  consent  to  the  ar- 
rangement, if  it  meets  your  ideas." 

Although  Paul  watched  critically  for  insincerity 
in  M.  Beauvais'  face,  he  detected  none.  He  missed, 
of  course,  an  expresson  of  welcome.  There  was 


THE  FIRST  SKIRMISH  267 

nothing  in  the  way  his  father  spoke  that  could  be 
twisted  into  meaning  reluctance. 

"It  has  always  been  my  desire  to  come  in  here 
and  work  with  you  and  father,  as  you  know.  I 
have  spent  longer  years  at  study  than  is  now  usually 
the  case,  and  I  did  it  that  I  might  be  more  capable 
when  this  time  should  come." 

Then,  as  if  searching  for  something  further  to 
say,  he  went  on : 

"Why,  yes.  I'm  delighted.  I  was  intending  to 
come  down  and  make  the  request  of  my  own 
accord." 

This  agreed  exactly  with  Raoul's  suspicions.  He 
had  counted  on  the  forwardness  of  Paul — as  he 
liked  best  to  call  it — bringing  him  to  make  the 
request.  He  could  then  have  promptly  objected, 
and  that  would  have  killed  the  possibility.  But 
Lederfrank  had  managed  it  so  as  to  defeat  his 
former  plans. 

"The  way  we're  doing  with  Isaac,"  Lederfrank 
went  on,  "is  that  he  works  on  a  salary  until  he  has 
gone  from  bottom  to  top  in  the  business.  He  is 
then  to  be  made  a  director  and  shareholder— each 
father  deciding  on  what  basis;  that  is,  how  many 
shares." 

"It  suits  me — where  shall  I  begin  ?" 

"Isaac  began  in  the  mines.  You  must  ultimately 
go  there,  too,  but  just  now  we  are  passing  through 
a  crisis,  and  it  will  be  best  for  you  to  begin  in  the 
office.  A  little  later  you  can  go  and  come  the  other 


268  THE  INVADER'S  SON 

way.  You  see  this  is  a  huge  business  now.  We're 
employing  seven  thousand  people  in  one  way  and 
another." 

"I'm  ready,"  said  Paul,  a  triumphant  light  com- 
ing into  his  face.  At  last  his  father  must  be  get- 
ting over  his  sulkiness,  and  the  future  undoubtedly 
promised  to  be  bright. 

M.  Lederfrank  discussed  terms  of  employment, 
and  executed  a  contract  with  Paul,  which  Raoul 
Beauvais  signed  as  an  official  of  the  company. 

Paul  entered  upon  his  duties  at  once.  He  was 
under  the  direction  of  Jacob  Lederfrank,  and  rarely, 
if  ever,  came  into  contact  with  his  father.  Leder- 
frank arranged  his  work  to  enable  him  to  get  an 
insight  into  the  system  of  business  in  the  briefest 
possible  time.  The  Hebrew  foresaw  the  day  when 
the  crisis  would  come,  and  he  wished  to  have  Paul 
trained  against  that  time. 

But  Lederfrank  could  not  see  the  end.  It  is  for- 
bidden that  mere  man  should  be  too  wise.  The 
crisis  produced  in  the  business  was  not  particularly 
clear  to  anybody  in  Ste.  Genevieve — even  Leder- 
frank could  not  see  the  utility  of  persecuting  Raoul 
Beauvais;  nor  did  he  recognize  any  yielding  on  the 
part  of  Raoul  towards  selling  his  shares.  These 
cogitations  he  reported  to  Count  von  Essenhendel. 
That  something  was  sure  to  happen  could  not  be 
doubted.  Such  an  extraordinary  condition  in  busi- 
ness could  not  continue  for  long  without  breaking 
into  one  channel  or  another.  But  whatever  that 


THE  FIRST  SKIRMISH  269 

would  be,  Lederfrank  was  going  to  do  his  duty  to 
the  benefit  of  Paul  Beauvais. 

M.  Beauvais,  the  foster  father,  fumed  and  fretted 
in  secret.  He  smarted  under  the  treatment  heaped 
upon  him  by  Lederfrank.  The  Jew  had  been  al- 
most domineering  in  forcing  his  wishes  upon  him. 
Of  course,  he  could  not  object.  Lederfrank  had 
made  it  possible  for  him,  a  poor  soldier,  to  make  a 
fortune,  and,  whatever  the  outcome,  he  must  accept. 

Also  Paul  was  easily  gaining  on  him.  Nothing 
seemed  to  hinder  his  steady  progress.  His  own  boys 
were  excellent  fellows,  but  Paul  was  superior — 
despite  his  dislike  for  Paul,  the  father  had  to 
admit  it. 


CHAPTER  XXIII 

THE  PAINTING 

"AND  the  light  has  failed,  Alfred.  You  never  knew 
the  story  before,  and  I  should  not  have  told  you, 
had  you  not  come  to  me  in  such  frankness.  You 
can  try  to  carry  out  father's  wish,  if  you  like.  You 
only  suspected  that  I  cared  for  Yvonne.  You  now 
know  of  the  meeting  in  the  forest;  that  I  saved  her 
life — you  also  know  there  is  nothing  between  us 
except  memory,  and  that  will  never  die." 

"I  can't  bring  myself  to  make  an  attempt  to  win 
Mademoiselle  Yvonne.  I  told  father  I  couldn't — 
I  suspected  you  cared,  and  said  so;  then  he  urged 
me  only  the  more.  I  also  declared  I  would  talk 
with  you.  He  said  I  was  a  fool.  For  some  reason 
unknown  to  me,  he's  against  you,  Paul,  and  he 
wants  me  to  supplant  you.  In  spite  of  his  enmitv 
for  Pierre  de  Robincourt,  on  account  of  the  labor 
bill,  he  would  have  me  make  an  effort  at  trickery 
to  capture  the  daughter.  Only  this  morning,  he 
taunted  me  saying:  'Paul  has  outstripped  you  in 
everything;  he  has  your  rightful  place  in  the  firm; 
you're  wasting  your  time  dabbling  in  oils:  marry 
Yvonne  de  Robincourt  and  her  fortune.' 

"I  cannot  love  Mademoiselle  Yvonne.  I  tell  you, 
though,  father  is  so  changed — oh,  well,  as  I've  just 
said,  he  has  been  talking  thus  to  me  since  I  was 
sixteen  years  old." 

270 


THE  PAINTING  271 

"I've  no  claim,  Alfred,  as  you  see.  You're  free 
to  make  the  trial  for  your  own  happiness.  If  I 
could  I'd  help  you." 

Alfred  laughed  in  rejection  of  the  suggestion. 
They  were,  at  the  time,  walking  over  the  High 
Bridge,  and  halted  a  moment  to  look  down  into 
jhe  languid  waters  of  the  Oise. 

"No;  I  shall  not  try.  I  have  no  inclination.  The 
young  lady  is  lovely — especially  attractive,  but 
that's  one  thing,  and  my  own  choice  another.  I'm 
tired  of  father's  urgings,  and,  since  I  have  laid 
everything  before  you,  and  you  know  my  feelings, 
I'm  more  disgusted  with  him  than  ever." 

"Don't  speak  of  father  in  such  a  way,  Alfred — 
it's  not  right." 

"Oh,  Paul,  but  he's  making  it  very  hard  for 
both  of  us.  You're  working,  endeavoring  to  solve 
the  puzzle  of  his  business  entanglement,  and  he 
doesn't  appreciate  it.  He  insults  you  nearly  every 
day — recently  I  felt  constrained  to  intercede  for 
you.  You  could  have  thrown  up  your  hands  and 
quit;  but  you  stay  on  and  pay  no  attention.  Per- 
haps he'd  have  me  hate  you,  if  he  could.  It's  too 
much.  I  tell  you,  he  and  I  had  a  scene  this  morning. 
I  told  him  plainly  he'd  no  reason  to  dislike  you; 
that  he  must  be  losing  his  mind." 

"Yes,"  Paul  sighed,  as  if  worn  out  endeavoring 
to  solve  the  puzzle.  Continuing  he  said :  "The  best 
thing  to  do  is  to  go  on  about  your  painting,  and 
forget  father  has  said  anything.  That's  the  way  I 


272  THE   INVADER'S   SON 

do.  I  can't  remember  having  done  anything  to  dis- 
please him.  I  wonder  and  wonder  about  his  treat- 
ment of  me,  but  can't  find  an  answer — mother 
doesn't  help  me  to  understand.  If  I  could  only 
succeed  in  finding  out  what  is  wrong  in  the  business, 
I  should  be  content." 

"Of  course,  you're  right." 

"Al,  if  I  were  you,  I  might  try  to  win  Made- 
moiselle Yvonne.  You  painted  her  portrait  while 
father  and  de  Robincourt  were  still  quarreling,  and 
it's  possible  you  might  find  an  open  door  to  you." 

"No,  I  couldn't  take  the  flower  that  is  justly 
yours.  I'd  be  unhappy  if  I  succeeded,  after  know- 
ing the  secret  in  your  heart.  Your  story  impresses 
me.  There's  something  original  and  simple  about 
your  requesting  her  to  be  your  sweetheart,  and  I 
can  hear  her  reply.  Why,  I  can  see  the  story  as  it 
happened — the  runaway  and  the  rescue;  old  Louis 
XIV.,  looking  back  in  inquiry  at  the  pretty  prize, 
safe  on  the  pummel  of  your  saddle;  the  dismount, 
and  the  walk  home.  I  can  imagine  Louis  might  have 
sniffed  at  her  flowing  hair,  when  you  quite  forgot 
him  as  you  talked.  No,  this  world  would  have  a 
black  spot  in  it  for  me,  if  nothing  should  come  of 
that  day  dream." 

Paul  sat  with  bowed  head  while  Alfred  spoke.  He 
had  confessed  to  his  brother  his  secret — had  related 
the  events  of  the  ride,  and  the  stroll  in  the  Robin- 
court  Forest,  which  could  never  be  forgotten.  He 
had  acknowledged  by  shade  of  words,  and  a  passing 


THE  PAINTING  273 

dimming  of  the  eye,  that  there  was  an  ache  deep 
within,  which  could  never  be  removed.  The  artist's 
touch  in  making  live  again  the  familiar  scene,  re- 
vived the  pang  which  continually  made  him  sad. 

"You've  fine  feelings,  Al,"  was  all  he  said. 

He  got  up  and  walked  away,  and  in  the  silvery 
moonlight,  Alfred  saw  him  pass  the  Chateau,  and 
enter  the  pasture.  Following  him  at  a  distance,  the 
younger  brother  saw  him  go  over  the  crest  of  the 
hillock  towards  old  Louis  XIV.,  who  grazed  peace- 
fully on  the  tender  grass.  The  magnificent  old  horse 
recognized  his  master,  and  came  to  meet  him.  Paul 
ran  his  hand  caressingly  over  the  fine  head,  and 
threw  his  arms  about  the  animal's  neck.  Alfred  then 
knew  why  the  great  black  creature  was  Paul's  most 
valued  possession. 

While  the  days  passed,  Paul  buried  himself  in 
the  hum-drum  of  the  office.  The  artist  brother  was 
perplexing  the  horse  sense  of  old  Louis.  For  more 
than  a  week,  just  after  sunrise  every  morning, 
Alfred  appeared  at  the  back  of  the  meadow  with 
an  odd  assortment  of  trappings — a  mildewed  bridle 
and  saddle  and  a  canvas,  and  a  box  of  oils  that 
gave  off  offensive  odors.  The  retired  aristocrat  was 
caught,  rigged  up  with  the  out-of-date  things, — 
when  there  were  plenty  of  handsome  things  in  the 
stable, — and  sneaked  out  of  a  rear  gate,  and  then 
ridden  over  to  the  Robincourt  Forest.  Once  or  twice 
was  all  right,  but  Louis  could  not  understand  why 
it  had  to  be  repeated  every  day  in  his  quiet  life. 


274  THE   INVADER'S   SON 

The  strangest  part  of  all  was  the  actions  of  his 
surreptitious  rider.  Upon  arriving  at  the  crossing 
in  the  forest,  he  always  got  off,  and  went  through 
a  lot  of  curious  manoeuvres  with  his  canvas  and 
smelly  brushes.  Louis  was  made  to  stand  in  the 
middle  of  the  road,  and  one  delightful  morning, 
he  and  the  artist  almost  had  a  row  out  there  in  the 
still  woods.  The  artist  wanted  him  to  bend  his  fat 
horse  neck  around,  and  look  at  something  which 
was  not  there.  But  finally  he  did,  however,  when  he 
found  it  kept  the  painter  away  with  his  horrid 
brushes. 

Then  Alfred  came  no  more  to  disturb  Louis' 
tranquility.  One  day  he  left  Ste.  Genevieve  for  Paris, 
and  carried  with  him  paraphernalia  of  oils,  brushes, 
easels,  and  temporary  sketches.  He  went  to  begin 
his  life's  work.  For  months  he  was  quiet  in  his 
studio.  He  would  let  no  one  come  in  to  see  what 
he  did.  In  vain  Victor — gay  Victor, — who  revelled 
in  the  fun  of  Paris,  endeavored  to  coax  Alfred  to 
the  boulevards.  The  latter  wrote  an  occasional  letter 
to  his  brother  Paul,  and  noted  the  disheartening 
maze  the  business  seemed  to  be  drifting  into,  but 
kept  his  mind  and  heart  for  the  canvas  he  was  color- 
ing and  filling  with  a  master's  conception  of  an 
inspiration.  This  painting  of  Paul  and  Yvonne  and 
the  horse  in  the  Robincourt  Forest,  was  ten  feet 
by  fifteen  feet  in  size,  and  intended  to  be  the  prize 
of  the  young  genius. 

Throughout  the  Fall,  and  far  into  the  new  year, 


THE  PAINTING  27$ 

Alfred  worked  unceasingly,  putting  his  soul  and 
imagination  into  the  picture.  Early  photographs  of 
Paul  were  frequently  consulted,  and  the  original 
sketch  of  Yvonne  studied  until  he  could  paint  her 
with  his  eyes  closed.  The  rough  drawing  made  in 
the  forest  had  been  turned  and  twisted  and  courted 
about  until  nearly  dilapidated  from  much  handling. 
But  the  wide  canvas  grew  bit  by  bit  under  his  warm 
touch.  He  breathed  upon  it  the  spirit  of  a  great 
artist,  and  it  caught  and  fixed  the  subtle  glimmer  of 
life. 

The  boy  and  the  girl  seemed  to  be  speaking.  The 
horse's  soft  skin  looked  like  rich  satin,  and  invited 
the  touch — his  lustrous  eyes,  and  ears  at  attention, 
were  caught  at  the  precise  point.  The  trees — the 
knotted  bodies  and  the  green  leaves — were  natural 
to  a  fault.  The  tout  ensemble,  the  atmosphere  of 
virgin  simplicity,  the  invisible  influence,  the  shades, 
the  light,  the  blending,  the  wistful  innocence  in 
smile,  the  wonder  in  look,  the  toning  in  sombre 
hues,  were  all  there  in  astonishing  grandeur.  It 
was  a  finished  work  of  art,  transcendently  perfect  in 
detail,  and  marvelously  grouped  and  selected  to  por- 
tray its  pleasing  significance. 

The  young  painter,  late  in  the  afternoon,  when 
he  had  painstakingly  brightened  the  last  tremulous 
leaflet,  and  made  sure  of  the  high  lights  and  shadows 
— lest  the  slightest  feature  might  be  neglected,  arose 
wearily  from  the  low  stool  upon  which  he  had  been 
sitting,  and  taking  a  few  steps  away  from  the  canvas, 


276  THE   INVADER'S   SON 

sank  exhausted  on  the  oil-bespattered  floor.  He  slept 
in  peace.  All  night  the  scene  was  enacted  and  re- 
enacted  by  the  creations  he  had  put  on  the  broad 
sheet.  They  spoke  of  the  fallen  Dante  down  in  the 
corner;  he  heard  the  frightened  charger's  whinny; 
he  felt  Louis'  hot  breath  on  his  face.  Now  Paul 
and  Yvonne  turned  and  walked  away,  and  were 
lost  in  the  lowering  foliage.  Again  the  dash  of  the 
runaway  stopped  in  his  picture,  and  again  he 
watched  it  through  another  disappearance  in  the 
forest  avenue. 

"Humph!"  he  exclaimed,  shielding  his  eyes  from 
the  glare  of  the  sun  in  the  morning.  "I've  been 
asleep.  Well  it's  done.  The  world  may  now  judge." 

That  same  day,  Alfred  invited  the  Committee  of 
the  Paris  Exhibition  of  Arts  to  his  studio.  In  five 
minutes  they  had  accepted  the  painting  entitled, 
"The  Story  Immortalized,"  although  they  remained 
for  an  hour  to  discuss  its  merits.  Then  men  came 
and  removed  the  painting  to  the  Arts  Hall,  where 
it  was  set  in  a  deep  frame,  and  hung  against  the 
center  panel  of  the  colonnaded  room.  It  would  be 
three  weeks  yet  before  the  doors  opened  to  the 
throng  that  was  already  collecting  from  all  parts  of 
the  earth. 

In  this  interval,  Alfred  occupied  himself  as  hun- 
dreds of  others  have  done,  whose  work  had  been 
accepted — in  sending  out  invitations  to  friends, 
stating  with  evident  pride :  "The  Committee  of  the 
Paris  Exhibition  of  Arts  has  graciously  granted 


THE  PAINTING  277 

permission  for  the  display  of  my  latest  painting." 
The  time  otherwise  left  to  him  was  devoted  to  Vic- 
tor, who,  notwithstanding  his  absorbing  love  for 
music,  and  easy  success  in  securing  a  substitute  posi- 
tion in  the  Opera  Orchestra,  was  here  and  there  in 
half  of  the  fashionable  homes  in  the  metropolis.  He 
introduced  Alfred  until  the  latter  cried  ''enough." 
Victor  was  a  gentleman,  as  well  as  a  "dandy," — 
and  had  become  engaged  to  a  pretty  French  brunette, 
whose  father  managed  the  Opera.  The  girl's  father 
was  rich,  which  said  much  for  Victor's  business 
judgment. 

The  Exhibition  opened.  Crowds  came  and  went. 
Alfred's  forest  painting  caught  the  popular  eye,  and 
critics  halted  long  before  it — everyone  accorded  it 
first  place  among  the  large  collection  of  the  works 
of  numerous  artists.  He  tabulated  more  than  a  dozen 
offers  for  it,  promising  answers  after  the  close  of 
the  Exhibit.  He  knew  his  name  was  made,  and 
he  could  command  a  place  of  eminence  in  the  world 
of  art.  But  he  received  his  congratulations  quietly, 
and  stood  by,  day  after  day,  waiting  and  watching 
for  the  coming  of  those  for  whom  he  had  wrought 
the  work  of  love. 

Madame  Beauvais,  Paul,  Marie,  and  Hermance 
came,  and  were  enthusiastic  over  the  work.  To  the 
mother's  surprised,  questioning  look,  Alfred  replied : 
"Paul  told  me!"  The  father  came  last  of  all,  drag- 
ging with  him  the  load  of  business  worry,  but  he 
was  satisfied  with  Alfred — although  disapproving 


278  THE   INVADER'S  SON 

of  his  subject, — and  went  away  to  take  up  his 
burden. 

And  so  on  and  on  the  days  sped  until  the  closing 
came.  At  ten  o'clock  of  the  night  of  the  last  day, 
the  Exhibition  would  come  to  an  end.  It  rained  all 
the  afternoon,  and  the  crowds  in  and  out  the 
entrance  thinned  to  a  few  stragglers.  Madame 
Beauvais,  ill  with  a  headache,  remained  in  the  hotel. 
The  daughters  were  at  the  Opera.  Paul,  who  had 
gone  back  to  the  factory  with  his  father,  came  into 
Paris  late  that  afternoon,  in  response  to  a  telegram 
from  Alfred.  The  brothers  sauntered  about  in  the 
deserted  building,  stopped  casually  before  some 
painting,  but  talked  mostly  of  the  business  at  home. 
There  was  still  perhaps  a  score  of  people  in  the 
main  exhibit  room,  where  Alfred's  masterpiece  hung, 
but  they  were  already  becoming  restless  to  go.  In 
the  off  wings,  workmen  were  drawing  the  blinds, 
and  the  guards  were  impatient.  Alfred  had  just 
drawn  Paul  into  an  alcove  to  the  left  of  the  painting 
to  point  out  to  him  a  new  splendor  that  the  lights 
were  emphasizing. 

"Papa,  I  must  see  this  painting,  The  Story  Im- 
mortalized,' even  if  it  is  closing  time,"  a  clear, 
musical  voice  said. 

"I  mustn't  stop  in  here — I'm  smoking,"  said  the 
man. 

"Then  wait  just  outside.  I'll  return  shortly. 
Please  wait,  papa,  dear." 

To  the  guard,  she  said :  "I  should  like  to  see  The 


THE  PAINTING  279 

Story  Immortalized.'  It's  bad  to  come  so  late,  but 
Fve  just  returned  from  Egypt,  and  couldn't  get 
here  before  tonight.  A  lady  at  the  hotel  told  me  of 
this  painting  at  dinner." 

The  guard  pointed  sulkily,  and  went  off  down 
the  aisle. 

Mademoiselle  Yvonne  paused  before  the  canvas. 

No  one  was  now  to  be  seen  in  the  main  hall.  She 
glanced  about  and  noted  the  fact.  The  two  brothers 
were  hidden  in  the  shadows.  The  young  woman 
stood  motionless,  and  gazed  on  the  only  event  in 
her  life  that  counted  for  anything.  She  could  not 
believe  she  saw  aright.  The  scene  was  correct  in 
every  particular — how  well  she  knew  it !  How  often 
she  had  recalled  it  and  fondled  it  in  her  heart !  And 
yet  the  years  were  passing  with  their  changes.  She 
searched  for  the  painter's  name — although  she  knew 
it  could  be  no  other  than  Alfred  Beauvais.  The  large 
brass  plate  on  the  lower  part  of  the  frame  escaped 
her — she  was  so  intent  upon  the  picture.  Finally 
she  discovered  the  modest  signature — it  was  cleverly 
worked  into  a  skid  on  the  ground  made  by  one  of 
Dante's  hoofs  when  he  fell.  "A.  Beauvais,"  she 
spelled  out  of  the  artistic  groupings  of  what  other- 
wise seemed  to  be  accidental  marks  on  the  earth. 
Then,  after  all,  Paul  cared  enough  to  tell  his  brother 
the  story. 

Paul  leaned  forward  and  stared  at  the  vision 
before  him.  The  dead  hopes  of  years  seemed  to 
revive  and  stir  again  the  dream  of  his  youth.  He 


280  THE   INVADER'S  SON 

forgot  surroundings — he  did  not  seem  to  be  on 
earth.  His  memory  of  the  girl  he  had  snatched 
from  the  runaway  was  on  the  canvas,  and  the 
original,  advanced  far  beyond  the  extravagance  of 
his  fancy,  was  there  in  the  flesh,  palpitating,  warm, 
breathing,  living — more  beautiful  than  he  had 
thought,  dignified,  prettily  human,  and  the  ideal  rose 
of  perfect  womanhood. 

"Go!"  exclaimed  Alfred  in  whisper.  "For  this 
moment  have  I  created  the  picture — go!" 

Paul  had  no  choice,  for  Alfred  pushed  him  full 
into  the  electric  glare. 

Yvonne  started,  but  her  eyes  met  his  steadily  for 
a  minute.  A  smile  of  recognition  swept  swiftly  over 
her  features. 

Involuntarily  they  turned  to  the  painting. 

Paul  was  by  her  side  now,  and  he  said,  as  if 
reading  the  title,  in  a  voice  that  was  strange  to 
him :  "  The  Story  Immortalized !'  " 

"And  you  were  waiting  here  for  me?" 

"Yes;  and  I've  been  waiting  every  day  since  that 
day." 

She  glanced  uneasily  towards  the  door. 

"Yvonne,"  he  said,  "do  you  remember  that  day?" 

"I  remember." 

"From  then  until  now,  I've  not  forgotten.  Do 
you  remember  our  promise?" 

"Please,  Paul,  father  makes  it  impossible." 

"Yvonne!"  called  a  gruff  voice,  and  she  slipped 
her  hand  from  Paul's  and  ran  out  of  the  hall. 


THE  YELLOW  PERIL 

FOR  several  months  there  had  been  bickerings  be- 
tween some  of  the  European  nations  and  China  and 
Japan.  While  Alfred  was  engaged  in  painting  his 
masterpiece,  which  resulted  in  giving  Paul  the  assur- 
ance he  needed — that  Yvonne  still  cared — these  in- 
ternational troubles  were  steadily  growing.  Finally 
the  United  States  became  involved  with  Japan.  Eng- 
land got  into  a  heated  controversy  with  certain  rich 
Rahjahs  of  India.  China  made  grimaces  at  Russia. 
What  was  left  of  Turkey,  the  Government  of  Persia, 
Afghanistan,  and  the  dozen  or  more  petty  states  in 
the  East,  became  turbulent,  and  made  overtures  to 
the  larger  yellow  nations. 

Back  in  1918  and  1919,  statesmen  and  well- 
informed  citizens  had  said,  and  persuaded  themselves 
to  believe  it,  that  there  could  never  be  another  war. 
The  fiasco  of  Germany  had  shown  the  folly  of  mili- 
tary combats  to  all  peoples  everywhere.  But  how 
foolish  men  are  when  a  little  time  has  made  memory 
less  acute;  for  Europe  faced  the  Yellow  Peril.  The 
League  of  Nations,  in  name  only,  which  was  pos- 
sible of  founding  by  Woodrow  Wilson,  Lloyd 
George,  and  others,  following  the  peace  of  Paris, 
had  proven  as  ineffectual  in  restraint  as  the  bit  of 
paper  between  Belgium  and  Germany,  at  the  time 

281 


282  THE   INVADER'S   SON 

of  the  breaking  out  of  the  world's  war.  China  had 
become  a  world  power.  Progress  in  that  race  ex- 
ceeded that  of  the  Japanese.  Her  army  had  been 
trained  by  military  experts  from  the  West,  and, 
with  an  eye  to  the  future,  she  made  it  her  business 
to  form  a  strong  alliance  with  Japan.  Agents  of 
the  Chinese  Government  mingled  freely  with  outly- 
ing countries,  stirred  to  the  verge  of  strife,  and 
promised  armies  and  ammunition  sufficient  to  equip 
the  men  of  military  age  of  the  550,000,000  of  popu- 
lation without  the  border  of  the  Country  of  Heaven. 
Differences  in  religion  were  buried,  and  for  the 
first  time  since  the  creation  of  the  world,  there  was 
great  likelihood  of  a  union  of  the  little  Yellow  Men 
of  the  East  to  the  detriment  of  western  civilization. 
If  so,  there  was  a  solid  population  of  more  than  one 
billion,  with  unlimited  resources,  and  whereas  the 
great  war  of  1914  had  under  arms  30,000,000  of 
men,  the  yellow  races  of  the  East  could  easily  put 
into  the  field  75,000,000  soldiers,  most  of  whom 
were  fatalists;  and  if  this  tide  should  roll  westward 
over  Europe,  the  Great  War  of  1914,  would  be  out- 
classed in  horrors.  The  battles  of  Hindenburg  and 
Foch  would  become  as  mere  samples  of  past  warfare. 
At  this  moment,  the  move  which  everybody  had 
declared  for  centuries  to  be  impossible,  sent  a  shud- 
der over  the  world.  Less  than  twenty-five  years  had 
elapsed  since  the  Woodrow  Wilson  peace,  and, 
naturally,  one  of  the  powerful  nations  of  Europe 
still  felt  disgruntled  and  out  of  sorts  in  that  she 


THE  YELLOW  PERIL  283 

believed  she  had  been  treated  unfairly  by  the  Allied 
Powers.  Resurrecting  her  diabolical  scheme  of  spies, 
and  the  spreading  of  propaganda,  she  began  to  hob- 
nob openly  with  the  yellow  diplomats,  and  to  make 
them  promises.  When  America  and  the  rest  of 
Europe  objected,  a  defiant  laugh  went  up,  and  the 
press  of  the  country  came  out  boldly  and  stated  the 
intentions  of  the  race. 

Pacifists  began  to  make  pleas  for  peace — and  the 
brotherhood  of  man — and  Socialists,  Democrats  and 
the  Bolsheviki  showed  their  heads,  and  began  to 
mouth  with  a  welt  of  words :  What  could  be  the 
object  of  such  a  war?  Competition  in  commerce — 
the  building  of  Bagdad  railways,  the  freeing  of  cer- 
tain colonies,  the  settling  of  old  scores,  supremacy 
of  the  seas,  was  the  quick  reply.  But  why  the  blood- 
shed? War  is  a  necessity  to  the  healthy  growth  of 
nations  was  the  answer. 

Again  pacifists  vociferated.  Newspapers  printed 
hundreds  of  thousands  of  columns  of  editorials 
against  war.  But  the  periodical,  in  London,  called 
John  Bull,  shocked  the  fine  sentimental  senses  of 
civilization  by  publishing  an  article  headed: 
"WHAT  THE  HELL!" 

The  import  of  this  unconventional  subject,  as 
elaborated  upon  in  plain,  red-hot  paragraphs,  was 
that  the  Great  East  cared  absolutely  nothing  about 
newspaper  preaching.  Eastern  civilization  in  the 
minds  of  Hindoos,  Burmese,  Chinese,  Japanese,  and 
others  was  infinitely  superior  to  Western  civiliza- 


284  THE   INVADER'S   SON 

tion,  and  the  little  thing  of  creeping  stealthily  upon 
the  Caucasian  with  hooked  knife  to  commit  murder, 
was  a  delicious  treat  for  which  they  had  been  dream- 
ing since  the  time  of  Confucius.  "DO  SOMETHING — 
OR  SHUT  UP!"  was  the  closing  exhortation  of  John 
Bull's  Editor. 

Simultaneously,  the  press  in  England  and  America 
stopped  moralizing,  and  began  to  demand  action. 
"How  about  the  International  Republic?"  they 
asked. 

It  is  strange  how  people  become  more  susceptible 
to  idealistic  proposals  as  soon  as  some  terrible  dis- 
aster is  over — or  a  new  one  threatens.  The  Lord 
understood  this  weakness  in  the  Jews,  and  when  He 
wanted  them  to  make  a  stand  for  righteousness.  His 
thunderings  and  lightnings  enveloped  Mount  Sinai. 
Yes;  what  had  become  of  the  International  Repub- 
lic? Smooth-tongued  diplomats  blandly  replied: 
"Look  ye  to  our  treaties!  Has  not  the  League  of 
Understanding,  formed  after  the  treaty  of  Paris 
in  1919,  and  the  rules  laid  down  in  the  Hague 
Conventions,  been  before  you  all  these  years,  and 
become  a  bulwark  for  the  last  quarter  01  a  century  ? 
Mark  ye  the  treaties! — many  of  them  with  Royal 
ribbons  attached!"  John  Bull's  rejoinder  made  the 
whole  world  laugh. 

Then  the  papers  asked  about  the  Beauvais  Con- 
stitution. Some  remembered  it  had  been  printed  in 
every  publication  in  the  countries  on  both  sides  of 
the  Atlantic.  Why  had  it  been  neglected  ?  The  lead- 


THE  YELLOW  PERIL  285 

ing  peoples  in  all  nations — even  among  the  Yellow 
Men — did  not  want  war.  Many  said  it  was  an  im- 
possibility— just  as  had  been  said  in  July,  1914. 
Others  said  if  war  did  break  out,  it  would  not  last 
more  than  sixty  days — just  as  they  said  in  July, 
1914.  Then  one  and  all  began  to  argue  that  the 
International  Republic  imposed  no  hardships,  did 
not  lessen  the  greatness  of  any  nation,  and  was 
assuredly  the  only  feasible  solution  to  the  problem 
of  establishing  universal,  everlasting  peace.  There- 
fore, the  thunders  of  the  press  sounded  again,  and 
the  people  were  urged  to  awake  and  save  the  age 
from  a  cataclysm  greater,  more  shocking,  more 
hideous  than  that  of  the  World  War. 

Menaces  of  the  Yellow  Peril  were  just  what  na- 
tions required  to  awaken  them.  That  section  of 
statesmen  which  always  marches  under  the  banner 
of  "The  World  is  Good  Enough"  was  badly  handled 
by  the  public.  They  were  told  to  keep  out  of  the 
fight.  The  men  who  paid  taxes;  women  who  had 
given  up  sons  to  armies,  cried  for  a  hearing.  Huge 
petitions  to  parliaments  and  congresses  were  circu- 
lated. The  solid  majority  of  good  citizens  in  Ger- 
many, France,  England,  and  the  Americas,  in  these 
petitions,  asked  their  governments  to  appoint  dele- 
gates to  an  international  convention  to  formulate 
a  constitution,  and  organize  a  powerful  international 
union.  It  was  all  done  in  a  remarkably  brief  time. 
Congressmen,  Members  of  Parliament,  Members 
of  the  Reichstag,  Deputies  to  the  Chamber,  in  con- 


286  THE   INVADER'S   SON 

siderable  numbers,  opposed  the  scheme — as  might  be 
expected  of  humanity, — and  by  means  of  much 
speaking  and  loud  outbursts  of  pettifogging  knowl- 
edge, divided  opinion  somewhat.  However,  the 
rising  flood  of  popular  approval  of  some  scheme  of 
international  protection  began  to  sway  the  steel 
standards  of  antiquated  civilization. 

In  the  furor  of  this  upheaval  for  common  weal 
and  protection,  the  French  election  of  Deputies  fell 
due.  One  of  the  issues — and  the  most  important 
one — was  the  question  of  deciding  whether  or  not 
France  would  become  a  member  of  the  International 
Republic,  which  certain  statesmen  throughout  the 
world  were  advocating;  provided,  of  course,  a  union 
satisfactory  to  all  could  be  perfected.  The  people 
of  France  must  express  themselves  in  the  election 
of  Deputies. 

This  divided  the  candidates  into  Internationalists 
and  Anti-Internationalists.  If  the  former  were 
elected  in  majority,  delegates  would  be  appointed 
to  the  great  convention.  To  enliven  the  contest, 
many  subterfuges  were  resorted  to,  and,  as  a  re- 
sult, the  most  interesting  campaign  in  French 
politics  started  in  with  more  than  the  usual 
enthusiasm. 

In  the  Ste.  Genevieve  district  of  the  Oise,  M. 
Pierre  de  Robincourt  announced  himself  for  re- 
election to  the  Chamber  of  Deputies,  as  an  Anti- 
Internationalist.  He  denounced  the  scheme  as  an 
attempt  on  the  part  of  Socialists  and  Bolsheviki 


THE  YELLOW  PERIL  287 

Idealists  to  rob  nations  of  their  sovereignties.  He 
wrote  articles  to  French  papers — also  to  England 
and  America, — •  urging  that  Western  civilization  fly 
to  arms  and  crush  the  little  Yellow  Men  and  the 
East  before  they  could  taste  of  white  men's  blood. 
Right  in  the  beginning,  before  his  opponent  had 
been  selected,  de  Robincourt  took  the  public  plat- 
form in  his  district,  and  started  in  to  educate  his 
electors  in  his  time-honored  theories. 

But  people  everywhere  were  thinking  independ- 
ently— and  reading  every  line  on  the  subject  they 
could  obtain.  France  was  not  the  only  country  in 
which  Internationalism  was  becoming  the  absorbing 
topic.  The  spring  elections  in  England  were  coming 
off,  and  member  after  member  was  being  returned 
to  the  House  of  Commons,  pledged  to  vote  for  the 
broader  idea  of  government.  Part  of  Germany,  de- 
spite the  efforts  of  militarists  not  yet  quite  dead, 
had  voted  in  favor  of  international  union.  Canada 
and  the  English  colonies  loyally  supported  the  best 
opinion  in  the  Mother  Country,  and  declared  they 
were  in  favor  of  a  great  convention  to  create  inter- 
national protection  for  mankind.  Even  Japan  was 
infested  with  international  agitators. 

Therefore,  M.  de  Robincourt's  constituents 
listened  to  him — many  of  them  impatiently,  and 
began  to  cast  about  for  an  able  Internationalist  to 
defeat  the  old  "mossback."  It  was  inevitable  that 
the  public  choice  should  fall  on  M.  Paul  Beauvais, 
author  of  the  now  famous  Constitution.  Was  not 


288  THE   INVADER'S   SON 

the  name  of  Beauvais  on  the  lips  of  the  world? 
Did  the  people  everywhere  not  cry  for  the  Beauvais 
scheme?  They  did  not  know  the  modest  young 
man,  and  it  did  not  matter  to  nations  whether  he 
were  a  peasant  or  prince — the  big  idea  was  the  thing 
of  magnetic  interest.  In  fact,  few  paused  to  con- 
sider the  author — they  clamored  for  the  realization 
of  his  conception,  but  it  would  be  ill-becoming  the 
gratitude  of  Frenchmen  in  Paul  Beauvais'  home 
district  to  overlook  him. 

Farseeing  men  in  the  city  of  Ste.  Genevieve, 
headed  by  Dr.  Anson  Joumonville,  had  planned  in 
advance.  His  property  qualifications  were  attended 
to  before  the  need  was  apparent,  and  every  avenue 
patrolled,  looking  to  his  successful  entry  into  the 
political  field.  Accordingly  when  the  "seer"  de 
Robincourt  began  to  mingle  with  the  voters,  trying 
to  forestall  opposition,  a  delegation  waited  on  Paul 
Beauvais,  and  requested  him  to  accept  the  nomina- 
tion. The  important  district  of  Northern  France 
with  its  factories  and  mines — always  a  prey  to  in- 
vading armies — must  make  a  stand  for  the  Inter- 
national Republic.  The  Committee  offered  the 
strongest  support  that  had  ever  been  arrayed  against 
M.  Pierre  de  Robincourt. 

This  group  of  leading  citizens  found  Paul  Beau- 
vais absorbed  in  the  office  of  Lederfrank,  Beauvais 
&  Co.,  endeavoring  still  to  bring  his  father  out  of 
the  complicated  muddle.  At  the  moment  they  en- 
tered, he  was  engaged  with  his  father  in  checking 


THE  YELLOW  PERIL  289 

up  the  credits  of  the  firm,  and  the  young  man  looked 
surprised  when  ten  prominent  and  influential  men 
strode  into  the  main  office,  each  wearing  a  badge 
labelled  "Internationalism."  As  much  as  he  would 
have  liked,  P'nil  had  not  attended  any  of  their  meet- 
ings. He  was  convinced  he  had  found  a  clue  to  all 
his  father's  troubles  in  the  firm,  and  worked  away 
to  prove  it  to  M.  Raoul  Beauvais,  who  was  more 
obstinate  than  ever  in  his  dislike  for  the  invader's 
son.  Hence  Paul  did  not  know  of  the  concerted 
action  of  his  friends  to  put  him  at  the  head  of  the 
ticket  against  the  invincible  de  Robincourt.  Neither 
Lederfrank  nor  Raoul  Beauvais  knew  of  it — and 
the  Internationalists  had  worked  so  secretly  and 
effectually  that  old  de  Robincourt  himself  was 
ignorant  of  the  danger  that  threatened  his  seat,  now 
become  to  him  the  pride  of  his  old  age. 

Raoul  Beauvais,  Jacob  Lederfrank,  and  Paul 
Beauvais  involuntarily  arose  to  their  feet,  not  know- 
ing what  to  do,  much  less  what  to  expect.  Politics 
had  never  been  considered  in  their  offices,  and  to  be 
suddenly  approached  by  the  outer  world,  certainly 
was  ominous,  if  not  the  forerunner  of  something 
unusual. 

Dr.  Anson  Jumonville  acted  as  spokesman.  He 
knew  his  task  well;  had  foreseen  the  difficulties  of 
persuading  Paul  to  take  his  hand  from  the  business; 
and,  consequently,  came  prepared  to  put  up  the 
strongest  case  of  which  his  keen  and  trained  intellect 
was  capable.  When  he  had  finished,  the  three  men 


290  THE   INVADER'S   SON 

of  commerce  saw  the  drift  of  the  situation.  Leder- 
frank  and  Beauvais  looked  at  Paul  as  much  as  to 
say,  "There  is  nothing  else  for  you  to  do." 

Paul  was  rapidly  turning  eventualities  in  his  mind, 
and  became  preoccupied. 

"It's  business  that  hinders  you,  Paul/'  said  Dr. 
jjumonville.  "You  must  put  France  above  business. 
Your  country  calls  you." 

The  younger  Beauvais  straightened  himself,  and 
said,  without  hesitation : 

"Gentlemen,  I  accept  the  honor,  and  pledge  myself 
to  undertake  the  duties  imposed." 


CHAPTER  XXV 

THE    CAMPAIGN 

WHEN  Paul  Beauvais  had  once  turned  himself  from 
the  routine  of  business,  and  surveyed  carefully  the 
world  situation — the  need  he  had  proclaimed  so 
urgently  in  Queen's  Hall,  London,  now  emphasized 
by  the  mutterings  of  Moslems,  Brahmins,  Buddhists, 
and  Confucianists, — he  arose  magnanimously  to  the 
occasion.  He  abandoned  office  duties  reluctantly,  but 
once  the  opportunity  of  France  beckoned  to  him,  he 
threw  into  the  balances  his  mind  and  heart,  and 
bared  his  breast  for  the  fight. 

It  would  be  no  easy  matter  to  defeat  M.  Pierre 
de  Robincourt.  While  the  old  Deputy  was  out-of- 
date,  ultra-conservative,  and  opposed  to  all  new 
things;  he  was  rich,  a  born  diplomat,  pleasing  when 
he  wanted  to  be  elected,  and,  worst  of  all,  subtly 
vindictive.  His  rugged  appearance,  distingue  de- 
meanor, and  powerful  directness,  appealed  to  the 
French  mind.  He  was  also  an  orator,  a  statesman 
of  the  old  school,  and  made  it  his  religion  to  know 
every  man,  woman,  child,  and  dog  in  the  prosperous 
district. 

Paul  Beauvais,  the  fledgling  of  modernism,  faced 
his  opponent  and  measured  his  power. 

There  was  in  it,  too,  the  delicate  handicap  of  love, 
for  since  the  night  in  Paris,  before  "The  Story 

291 


292  THE   INVADER'S   SON 

Immortalized,"  Paul's  love  for  Mademoiselle 
Yvonne  had  again  awakened  to  hold  him  in  a  state 
of  ecstacy.  He  saw  her  in  everything — the  flowers, 
the  trees,  the  dull  papers  in  the  office,  in  the  dank 
darkness  of  the  mines,  in  the  constellations  of  the 
Heavens;  and  he  heard  her  voice  by  day  and  by 
night; — a  music  sweeter  than  the  harp.  She  was  to 
him  the  gem  of  perfection — the  inspiration  of  his 
genius.  Had  he  not  studied  by  her  light?  Had  he 
not  delivered  the  Queen's  Hall  speech  while  an 
imaginary  image  of  her  danced  over  the  audience? 
Was  he  not  living  by  the  current  flowing  from  her 
heart  beats?  And  yet  he  must  go  to  battle  with 
her  father.  Whom  would  she  support? — there  is 
but  one  course  for  a  French  girl :  she  must  be  loyal 
to  her  father.  Paul  Beauvais  knew  he  had  to  win 
the  election  over  two  opponents  instead  of  one. 

The  news  of  Paul  Beauvais'  acceptance  came  to 
M.  de  Robincourt  at  once.  He  laughed  at  first,  but 
gradually  his  visage  settled  down  to  a  hardened 
frown. 

"Yvonne!"  he  called  like  the  boom  of  a  cannon. 

"Yes,  father." 

"Come  here!" 

"What  may  I  do?" 

"H'm — that  lover  of  yours!  That  modern  duck- 
ling you  have  been  pleading  for! — your  model  of 
manhood." 

"Well?" 

"He  has  accepted  the  nomination   against  me. 


THE  CAMPAIGN  293 

H'm !  he's  a  diplomatic  suitor  for  my  daughter's 
hand." 

"Paul  Beauvais  is  running  against  you,  father?" 

"Yes!"  This  "yes"  was  snapped  out  like  an  April 
peal  of  thunder.  Yvonne,  however,  did  not  mind. 
She  knew  Pierre  de  Robincourt  better  than  he  knew 
himself.  He  was  as  ferocious  as  a  hyena,  but  she 
could  wind  him  about  her  ringer. 

"I'm  sorry,"  she  said,  as  a  pallid  seriousness  came 
over  her  face. 

"He'll  be  sorry,  too.  If  he  hopes  to  defeat  me, 
I'll  show  him  that  the  voters  of  France  can  dis- 
tinguish between  chaff  and  the  real  grain." 

"Don't  boast,  father." 

"Boast !  Why,  I'm  merely  stating  a  fact.  Do  you 
suppose  the  intelligent  men  of  this  district  are  going 
to  turn  me  down  after  twenty-five  years  of  service 
in  the  Chamber  for  a  youth  who  is  proclaiming  a 
fanciful  comity  of  nations?" 

"No!    Not  if  I  can  prevent  it." 

"Ah,  I  knew  my  Yvonne — she's  the  chip  off  her 
father's  block!" 

"Of  course,  I'll  work  for  you.  I  shall  go  with 
you  to  every  meeting.  I  shall  speak  myself." 

"Good!" 

"But,  papa,  you've  an  antagonist  this  time." 

"Sacre!  I  know  it." 

"You've  never  had  such  an  able  candidate  from 
the  opposition — face  it,  acknowledge  it,  and  you  and 
I  can  work  the  better." 


294  THE   INVADER'S   SON 

"It's  true." 

"Now,  then,  I  love  Paul  Beauvais  with  all  my 
heart.  I  shall  never  cease  to  beg  you  for  him,  but 
he  has  drawn  swords  with  my  father — and  he's 
wrong.  I  don't  believe  in  his  politics.  Nationalities 
were  meant  to  be  separate.  France  could  never  con- 
sent to  become  neutralized  in  a  hodgepodge  of  races. 
I  shall  stand  by  you  throughout.  It  is  my  privilege 
— it  will  also  be  my  delight.  I  shall  work  only  the 
harder,  in  order  that  I  may  assist  in  convincing 
Paul,  by  overwhelming  defeat — and  the  majorities 
in  France,  England,  and  the  United  States, — that 
he's  wrong.  You  must  be  elected  by  a  majority  of 
not  less  than  2,500  votes.  I'm  glad  women,  in 
France,  now  have  the  right  to  take  an  active  part  in 
politics.  I  believe  we  shall  soon  be  entitled  to  vote — 
as  they  do  in  other  countries.  Anyway,  I  can  do  my 
share  of  your  campaigning." 

"It'll  be  easy,  Yvonne — easy!" 

"Work  with  the  idea  it  will  be  difficult — why, 
think  of  the  shame  of  your  being  defeated,  father? 
It  must  not  happen!" 

That  same  evening,  after  the  ringing  of  the  vesper 
bells,  Hermance  and  her  son,  Paul,  walked  hand 
in  hand  to  St.  Joseph's,  and  there  kneeling  before 
the  altar,  asked  the  Mighty  Lord  of  Hosts  to  give 
Paul  wisdom  and  power,  and  to  bless  his  fight  for 
universal  peace.  As  they  returned  over  the  High 
Bridge,  they  lingered  for  a  moment  as  if  loath  to 
go  in  out  of  the  balmy  night.  Stars  were  scattered 


THE  CAMPAIGN  295 

lavishly  throughout  the  Heavens,  and  the  stillness 
of  rest  held  nature  in  its  grip.  They  were  thought- 
ful after  their  visit  to  the  shrine.  Paul  asked : 

"And  Yvonne — what  will  she  do,  mother?" 

"She's  a  woman  of  France.  If  she  believes  her 
father's  views  are  best  for  France,  she  will  do  battle 
against  you,  even  though  it  wrenches  her  heart  at 
every  turn." 

"I  know — I  know.  I  wouldn't  have  it  otherwise," 
he  said  in  resignation. 

"Do  you  know  her  views?" 

"Yes,  mother.    After  my  speech,  she  wrote  me." 

"And  she  differs?" 

"Yes." 

"Well,  then,  prepare  for  the  bitterest  political 
campaign  that  has  ever  occurred  on  the  Oise. 
Yvonne,  my  son,  will  stand  by  her  father.  Because 
of  her  love  for  you,  she'll  work  only  the  harder, 
that  her  father  might  be  satisfied.  If  she  did  not 
do  her  duty,  Paul,  she  would  not  be  worthy  of 
you." 

Thus  the  lines  were  drawn.  The  storm  did  not 
begin  with  a  few  pattering  drops.  The  other  parts 
of  the  world  were  already  seething  in  the  thick  of 
the  boiling  whirlpool.  The  flood-gates  were  down, 
and  Ste.  Genevieve  caught  the  crest  of  the  angry 
current.  The  rush  of  the  waters  of  passion  and 
feeling,  of  sentiment  and  patriotism,  filled  the  land. 
The  young  giant  and  the  old  giant  waded  out  and 
crossed  swords. 


296  THE   INVADER'S   SON 

The  day  after  Paul  Beauvais'  nomination,  Pierre 
de  Robincourt  distributed  thousands  of  handbills, 
which  read : 

SANITY  VS.  INSANITY 


SAVE  FRANCE  FROM  BOLD  CONFISCATION 

Internationalism  Means 
No  France. 

VOTE 

For  M.  PIERRE  DE  ROBINCOURT, 
Whose  Record  of  Twenty-five  Years 

Is  a  Guaranty 
Against  Maudlin  Beauvaisism! 

VIVE  LA  FRANCE! 

These  beginning  words  were  printed  on  large 
squares  of  white  book  paper,  and  scattered  broad- 
cast over  the  district.  After  at  least  two  had  been 
provided  for  each  household,  others  were  pasted  on 
carts,  automobiles,  fences,  bridges,  trees,  sidewalks, 
and  house  gables,  and  about  sundown,  a  bill-scatter- 
ing biplane  sowed  a  stream  of  them  from  Ste. 
Genevieve  to  Hirson  and  on  to  Avesnes. 

By  noon  the  next  day,  Paul  Beauvais  issued  his 
reply.  Book  paper  was  not  considered,  but  the 
various  presses  issued  squares  of  ordinary  paper  of  a 
bright  red  color,  on  which  was  printed: 


THE  CAMPAIGN  297 

PEACE  VS.  BLOODSHED 


SAVE  FRANCE  FROM  PAGAN  INVASIONS! 

Internationalism  and 

The  International  Republic  Mean 

Security  and  Prosperity — 

ROBINCOURTISM 

Leaves  the  Gates  Open  for  Repetitions 
of  Louvain  and  Rheims! 


VOTE 

For  M.  PAUL  BEAUVAIS, 

The  Advocate  of  Greater  Freedom  for 

Frenchmen  and  a  Guaranty 

AGAINST  WARS! 

VIVE  LA  FRANCE! 

At  high  noon,  a  small  airship,  painted  yellow  for 
the  occasion,  darted  zigzag  across  the  heavens, 
spouting  a  stream  of  red.  Men  shaded  their  eyes 
and  looked.  They  cried: 

"THE  YELLOW  PERIL  AND  BLOOD!" 

The  first  public  speech  was  delivered  in  Ste. 
Geneveive  by  M.  de  Robincourt,  who  invaded  the 
home  precinct  of  M-  Paul  Beauvais  to  lead  the 
attack.  Yvonne  sat  on  the  rostrum  with  her  father, 
and  cheered  him  while  he  opened  his  campaign  for 
the  old  regime.  The  great  town  hall  was  packed 


298  THE   INVADER'S  SON 

with  men  and  women,  eager  to  hear  every  word  that 
was  said.  The  majestic  old  man,  noted  for  his  one 
hour  speeches,  stirred  them  with  his  patriotic  ora- 
tory, and  the  spectacle  of  the  beautiful  heiress  of 
Northern  France  on  the  platform  to  support  her 
father,  sent  a  wave  of  approving  admiration  through 
the  audience.  Wives  said  to  their  husbands :  "How 
sweet  of  her  to  come  with  her  old  father!"  The 
young  men  applauded  the  louder  in  order  to  win 
her  smiles!  There  were  shouts  of  "Hurrah!  for 
the  Tiger  of  Champagne." 

Paul  Beauvais  was  there,  consuming  every  word 
that  his  opponent  roared  into  the  ears  of  the  people. 
He  did  not  wince  under  the  scorching  volley  aimed 
at  his  head.  Then  came  the  challenge  in  de  Robin- 
court's  closing  remarks. 

"My  opponent  is  invited  to  answer  me.  Let  him 
dare  to  tell  the  electors  that  France  will  benefit  by 
his  modernisms." 

His  young  opponent  did  dare.  He  had  come  only 
to  listen,  but  he  was  not  afraid  to  debate  with  the 
Seer  of  the  Oise.  While  French  enthusiasm  shook 
the  building,  Paul  Beauvais  walked  up  the  main 
aisle,  and  mounted  to  the  speaker's  stand.  He  bowed 
to  de  Robincourt  and  his  daughter,  and  then  greeted 
the  tempestuous  crowd. 

This  move  tickled  the  public  imagination.  For 
ten  minutes  the  uproar  was  continuous.  Then  the 
expectant  hush  came. 

Beauvais'  reply  to  de  Robincourt  also  lasted  an 


THE  CAMPAIGN  299 

hour.  No  statement  in  the  former's  speech  was  left 
unnoticed.  The  dash  and  go  of  the  young  orator 
was  in  striking  contrast  to  the  volume  of  ponderous 
weight  of  the  old  one.  Hackneyed  legislative  formu- 
las seemed  to  have  emerged  from  a  dip  in  the  foun- 
tain of  perpetual  youth.  The  blunt  charges  of  de 
Robincourt  were  parried  with  polished,  scholarly 
refutations,  and  in  the  blank  left  by  the  removal, 
the  virile  seeds  of  progress  were  sown.  Where  de 
Robincourt  stepped  aside  to  drop  vindictive  per- 
sonal remarks,  Beauvais  disdaining  to  repay  in  kind, 
told  amusing  stories  that  met  the  situations  and 
made  the  people  laugh.  His  peroration  was  bril- 
liant, pithy,  pregnant  with  condensed  gems  of  argu- 
ment, and  absolutely  convincing. 

Thus  ended  the  first  debate.  There  was  no  gain 
to  either  side — except  that  of  becoming  acquainted. 
No  one  felt  that  either  side  had  fallen  short.  It  was 
a  draw  in  well-defined  contrast.  The  neglected  art 
of  oratory  would  doubtless  play  a  prominent  part 
in  the  campaign,  but  it  would  also  be  a  battle  of 
the  strong. 

Mademoiselle  Yvonne  was  quick  to  see  the  en- 
livened interest  of  the  audience.  While  holding 
affectionately  to  the  "Tiger  of  Champagne,"  the 
voters  seemed  to  be  on  the  point  of  letting  go  with 
one  hand  to  grasp  the  newer  and  more  dazzling 
prize;  thinking  men  were  unconsciously  reverting 
in  their  minds  from  one  to  the  other,  trying  to  make 
a  choice.  Before  the  meeting  was  over,  she  seized 


300  THE   INVADER'S   SON 

the  psychological  moment  to  divert  attention. 
Tripping  to  the  footlights,  she  said : 

"As  the  assistant  manager  of  my  father's  candi- 
dacy, I  am  authorized  to  propose  to  the  opposition, 
joint  debates  throughout  the  campaign.  The  issue 
before  France  and  the  world  is  of  far-reaching,  vital 
importance,  and  in  this  district,  people  should  hear 
both  sides  of  all  questions  fairly  presented  by  the 
principals.  If  this  is  agreeable  to  M.  Paul  Beauvais, 
the  series  of  appointments  may  be  arranged.  I 
await  his  prompt  decision." 

Loud  applause  again  filled  the  auditorium.  Paul 
Beauvais  lost  no  time  in  responding.  Smiling 
merrily,  with  a  twinkle  in  his  eyes,  he  said : 

"In  absence  of  my  assistant  manager,  my  mother, 
I  accept  the  challenge." 

The  great  folding  doors  were  thrown  open,  as 
the  enthusiastic,  cheering  multitudes  poured  into  the 
streets,  gesticulating  and  talking, — "tres  bien!"  and 
"excellent!"  rising  frequently  above  the  din.  Swift 
motor  carriages  bore  part  of  them  away.  Some  went 
off  down  the  sidewalks  in  groups  of  twos  and  threes, 
and  others  turned  into  the  narrow  side  passages. 
They  went  to  chateaux  on  hills  and  plains,  and  to 
cottages  and  hovels,  to  ponder  the  double  state- 
ment of  the  proposition. 

At  midnight  there  were  still  echoes  of  the  first 
meeting  in  the  arena.  In  the  Cafe  Joffre,  two  old 
cronies  sipped  their  biere  blonde,  and  discussed  the 
speeches. 


THE  CAMPAIGN  301 

"A  lively  bout,  Jean  Ferrier,  I'm  thinking" — and 
the  pretty  Mademoiselle  besides!" 

"N'est-ce  pas?"  Francois  Dubonet  pulled  his  im- 
perial and  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

"I  put  money  on  the  lad,"  said  Jean. 

"He'll  never  last  under  the  sledge-hammer  blows 
of  Pierre  de  Robincourt." 

"I  knew  you'd  be  for  the  old  man — shame  on 
you,  Dubonet!" 

"I've  been  voting  for  him  too  long.  He's  a  safe 
Deputy.  This  new  idea  may  be  all  right,  but  I'm 
not  one  for  trying  experiments  with  France." 

"I  can't  follow  your  thought.  The  International 
Republic  has  only  to  do  with  speeches  that  concern 
all  nations — it  does  not  take  away  liberties  of  indi- 
vidual nations." 

"That's  just  it,  Jean.  The  book  is  clean  to  start 
with — the  few  entries  on  the  first  pages  may  look 
very  inviting, — but  the  blank  pages  after;  that's 
where  the  danger  lies — what  comes  after.  Once 
France  is  mixed  up  in  this, — well,  no  one  can  see 
the  end.  Why,  this  may  be  the  work  of  Germany. 
Who  can  say  to  me,  knowledge  of  such  things  does 
not  originate  in  Teutonic  brains.  Beware,  Jean, 
beware!  France  has  come  out  of  many  hard  wars, 
and  I  shall  not  be  for  sinking  her  glorious  past  into 
a  puddle  where  all  the  frogs  croak  the  same !  Aloof- 
ness is  a  nation's  biggest  cannon." 

Down  on  the  river  front,  about  the  same  hour,  a 


302  THE   INVADER'S   SON 

half  dozen  rough  fellows  were  playing  cards  in  the 
freight  house. 

"Fine  speech  the  old  Deputy  made,"  said  Jules 
who  was  dealing  the  cards. 

"Ah,  ouif"  came  from  the  other  five.  "Fine  old 
man,"  continued  one  of  them.  "He'll  likely  get 
our  increase  in  wages  this  time — he  almost  did  it 
before,  but  the  men  like  M.  Raoul  Beauvais  inter- 
fered. I  heard  de  Robincourt  and  Beauvais  quar- 
relled over  that  bill." 

"Oh,  well,"  said  Jules  again — "the  old  Deputy 
can  count  on  our  votes." 

At  the  Club  of  Picardy,  nearly  fifty  young  men 
were  discussing  the  speeches,  and  the  several  merits 
of  the  candidates.  The  arguments  went  on  to  well 
after  one  o'clock,  and  the  taking  of  a  straw  vote 
revealed  the  fact  that  there  were  forty-four  votes 
for  Beauvais,  three  for  de  Robincourt,  and  four 
who  would  not  commit  themselves.  They  had  not 
been  in  the  discussion,  and  preferred  to  see  more  of 
the  campaign. 

"Mother,  this  is  going  to  be  a  hard  fought  cam- 
paign," said  M.  Paul  Beauvais,  on  reaching  the 
Chateau  Morestier.  He  then  related  what  had 
transpired,  and  his  mother  became  much  excited. 

"I  do  wish  I  had  gone.  It  never  occurred  to  me 
very  much  would  happen  tonight.  Oh,  it  was  fine 
for  you  to  announce  that  I'm  your  assistant  man- 
ager! Of  course,  everyone  knows  Dr.  Joumonville 
is  managing  your  campaign,  but  I  can  work  for 


THE  CAMPAIGN  303 

you,  too — since  Yvonne  works  for  her  father.  I'll 
go  out  and  counteract  the  work  of  Mademoiselle. 
It's  fair,  my  son — woman  against  woman!" 

As  the  de  Robincourt  motor  carriage  glided  along 
through  the  Forest,  the  following  conversation  took 
place : 

"That  young  fellow  has  plenty  of  audacity!" 

"Yes,  papa!" 

"Good  speech." 

"Yes." 

"My  undertaking  will  be  lively." 

"Yes." 

"I  can  wipe  him  out  though." 

"Don't  boast,  papa." 

"Yvonne,  he  can  get  down  on  his  knees  and  study 
statesmanship  under  me  for  ten  years — with  profit." 

"But  in  the  end?" 

"Yes,  the  young  devil  would  probably  be  wiser 
than  I." 

"That's  it,  that's  it." 

"Oh,  I've  respect  for  his  intellect." 

"The  family  is  well  endowed." 

"All  have  brains,  Yvonne.  My  money  is  paying 
for  them,  too!"  I  only  found  out  today  that  the 
painting  you  had  me  buy,  "The  Story  Immortal- 
ized," came  to  just  seven  thousand  francs,  more 
than  the  highest  offer  from  others !" 

"But  the  painting  is  worth  what  we  paid." 

"Yes,  yes;  still  if  I'm  defeated  by  this  ideal  of 
yours,  what  then?" 


304  THE   INVADER'S   SON 

"Oh,  don't  talk  defeat,  papa.  You  shall  not  be 
defeated.  I  could  not  endure  it.  You  must  win.  I 
shall  put  forth  every  effort  to  see  you  re-elected." 

"I  know.  Never  fear.  Why,  Yvonne,  I  could 
defeat  the  boy  without  delivering  a  speech,  but  now 
that  you  put  me  in  for  it,  I'll  wipe  him  off  the 
earth.  He'll  go  to  America,  or  South  Africa,  when 
I  finish." 

"Boasting  again,  papa.  You'll  win,  of  course,  but 
you'll  have  something  to  do.  You  went  prepared 
with  your  speech.  He  followed  you  making  his 
speech  as  he  went.  You've  challenged  a  young 
giant." 


CHAPTER    XXVI 

THE   EDDIES 

IMMEDIATELY,  the  political  contest  became  involved 
in  unrelenting  attacks,  no  mercy  was  shown  on 
either  side.  Mademoiselle  Yvonne  and  Madame 
Beauvais  were  out  daily  in  their  automobiles,  elec- 
tioneering and  taking  a  census  of  the  voters.  At  the 
end  of  the  first  two  weeks,  this  record  was  com- 
pleted. It  stood:  4,598  pledged  tentatively  for  de 
Robincourt;  4,321  pledged  to  Beauvais,  and  11,980 
non-committal  electors.  That  was  astounding.  It 
meant  work  of  the  cleverest  kind.  The  eleven  thou- 
sand were  not  disinterested — but  the  contrary,  and 
the  public  debates  were  largely  attended  by  this 
unknown  majority. 

In  the  meantime,  M.  Paul  Beauvais  had  devoted 
some  attention  to  the  business.  His  father,  still 
struggling  in  the  murkiness  of  dislike  and  jealousy, 
resented  this  return  to  keep  an  eye  on  the  affairs. 
He  had  hoped  that  Paul  would  be  buried  in  politics, 
from  which  he  could  never  extricate  himself.  Raoul 
hoped  the  Invader's  Son  would  be  taken  out  of  the 
way — as  far  as  the  firm  of  Lederfrank,  Beauvais  & 
Company  was  concerned;  but  Paul  was  too  much 
like  a  bull-dog — he  never  let  up  on  anything.  The 
political  battles  he  fought  with  M.  Pierre  de  Robin- 
court  sharpened  his  mind,  and  opened  avenues  of 

305 


3o6  THE   INVADER'S   SON 

thought  that  were  previously  dormant.  The  violent 
exercise  also  put  more  steel  and  determination  in 
the  young  man.  It  made  him  begin  to  hate  defeat 
as  if  it  were  a  great  disgrace,  and  had  put  in  him 
a  sternness  and  certainty  of  purpose.  His  demeanor, 
his  appearance,  his  method  of  thought,  his  system  of 
thinking,  his  combativeness — all  seemed  to  have 
undergone  a  change.  He  walked  upright,  main- 
tained an  air  about  him  of  self-reliance,  and  there 
was  a  sense  of  seriousness  emanating  from  him 
that  compelled  people  to  respect  him.  Old  de  Robin- 
court's  savage  speeches  were  prodding  him  into  full 
development. 

On  one  of  these  occasional  visits  to  the  offices, 
Raoul  Beauvais  alone  in  his  private  room,  looked 
out  and  saw  Paul  approaching.  His  step  was  quick, 
and  his  head  held  well  up — he  was  a  fine  specimen 
of  manhood^  clean-cut,  handsome,  powerful  in 
physique,  a  firm  mouth,  clear,  unquailing  blue  eyes, 
and  evidences  of  force  exuding  from  every  move- 
ment, and,  on  that  particular  morning,  he  seemed 
prepared  to  wade  into  a  whole  regiment  of 
scoundrels. 

"Just  like  a  damned  German!"  Raoul  said  to 
himself,  as  he  felt  a  shiver  of  a  wave  of  hate.  "To 
think  my  sons  are  going  into  the  arts,  and  leave 
me  to  be  trampled  on  by  this  invader!  Bah!" 

Paul  came  right  on  into  the  private  office.  He 
spoke  pleasantly,  hung  up  his  hat,  twisted  his 
moustache,  and  came  over  to  his  father's  desk. 


THE  EDDIES  307 

"See  here,  papa,  I've  worked  out  these  credits. 
I've  arranged  for  the  financing  of  all  your  diffi- 
culties. It  issues  from  Messrs.  Dupuy,  Longren  & 
Defresnes,  Paris.  Here's  the  credit  allowance." 

He  drew  the  document  from  his  pocket  and  threw 
it  before  the  sulking  man.  There  was  something 
about  Paul's  manner  which  always  saved  him  from 
personal  affront  from  Raoul.  The  now  gray-haired, 
stooped,  drawn-faced  business  victim  had  a  queer 
feeling  when  Paul  was  near — would  he  use  force, 
this  terrible  young  man?  Would  he  have  his  own 
way  in  spite  of  insults?  He  didn't  seem  to  pay  any 
more  attention  to  the  insults  that  Raoul  heaped 
upon  him  than  he  did  to  the  barking  of  strayed 
dogs. 

"This  just  pulls  the  business  through.  On  those 
contracts  from  America,  you  are  coming  out  even, 
when  the  firm  should  have  made  large  profits.  I 
don't  understand  it — it  seems  to  me  a  funny  piece 
of  business  altogether,  but  it  is  now  done.  Besides, 
the  factory  is  modernized,  and  if  you  will  manage 
these  credits  properly,  you  can  eventually  pay  out 
for  the  machinery,  and  re-establish  sound  business." 

M.  Beauvais  had  commercial  sense  enough  to  give 
the  young  man  a  grateful  look.  Paul  had  accom- 
plished something  which  had  worried  the  firm  for 
over  a  year,  and,  besides,  he  had  brought  the  busi- 
ness out  of  the  tangle  of  the  five-year  contracts  with 
American  firms  by  providing  the  credits  to  complete 
the  last  allotments  of  deliveries.  This  manoeuvre 


308  THE   INVADER'S   SON 

had  made  daylight  dawn  over  the  troubled  waters, 
so  that  steering  forward  could  be  more  certain,  and 
the  elder  Beauvais  thought  he  could  see  a  way  out 
to  success. 

"Now,  where  is  M.  Lederfrank?"  asked  Paul, 
taking  no  notice  of  the  man  who  stood  before  him 
saying  nothing. 

"In  the  shipping  office." 

Paul  called  him  over  the  house  telephone. 

Lederfrank  came  in,  looking  rather  anxious,  for 
he  and  Beauvais  were  having  some  stormy  confer- 
ences of  late  over  the  imminent  embarrassment  of 
the  firm.  He  glanced  quickly  at  Paul  on  entering 
the  private  office. 

"M.  Lederfrank,  I've  arranged  the  necessary 
credits  to  bring  the  business  out  of  this  crisis," 
eyeing  the  Jew  closely. 

"Is  it  sufficient?" 

"More  than  sufficient." 

"H'm!" 

"Father  admitted  to  me  last  week,  M.  Leder- 
frank, that  you  wished  to  purchase  his  shares." 

"I  told  him  casually  if  he  were  tired  of  the  drag 
of  the  business,  since  I  had  originally  got  him  into 
it,  I  would  buy  him  out  on  the  basis  of  our  con- 
tract." 

"How  is  it  the  contract — I  required  father  to  show 
it  to  me, — provides  that  only  you  could  buy  out 
your  partner?" 

Lederfrank  did  not  answer  at  once.    He  liked 


THE  EDDIES  309 

Paul,  but  of  late  he  felt  uncomfortable  in  his  pres- 
ence— he  was  "so  nosey!"  the  Jew  had  written  to 
Count  von  Essenhendel. 

"Oh,  that's  simple  enough — I — it's  because  I 
loaned  the  money  to  your  father  to  start  the  busi- 
ness." 

"I  can't  have  this  discussion,"  declared  Raoul 
Beauvais,  springing  to  his  feet. 

Paul  shot  a  look  at  his  father,  which  caused  him 
to  settle  down  in  his  chair. 

"Yes,  yes;  I  know  that,"  said  Paul,  "but  since  it 
was  paid  back  years  ago,  don't  you  think  it  fair  that 
father  should  have  equal  privileges  with  you?  You 
have  been  friends  all  these  years,  and  you  wouldn't 
take  advantage  now,  would  you?" 

"Certainly  he  should  have  the  same  rights  that  I 
sen  joy." 

Lederfrank  seemed  a  little  upset.  Paul  looked 
him  through,  and  crowded  close  up  to  him. 

"I  believe  you  told  me,  when  I  came  into  the  firm, 
it  was  for  my  sake  you  had  been  helping  father." 

"Yes." 

"Well,  then,  Lederfrank,  for  my  sake  you'll  give 
my  father  the  right  to  purchase  your  shares,  if  he 
can  raise  the  money." 

Raoul  Beauvais  looked  on  in  astonishment. 

Lederfrank  felt  he  could  hedge  by  taking  his 
usual  week  to  think  it  over.  Ever  since  he  had  been 
in  the  business,  when  anything  of  moment  came  up, 
he  always  took  a  week  to  reflect — in  reality  to  write 


310  THE   INVADER'S   SON 

to  the  Count.  Paul  had  noted  the  peculiar  practice, 
and  was  determined  to  forestall  it. 

"Here's  the  option  on  your  share  for  a  year,  M. 
Lederfrank;  sign  on  this  line." 

"I  must  think  it  over  for  about  a  week." 

"Why  you've  just  agreed  it's  right.    Sign  it!" 

"I  would  much  prefer " 

Paul  was  thrusting  the  pen  in  his  hand. 

"I  prefer,  sir,  that  you  do  what  you  say  is  right, 
and  do  it  now!  If  you  hesitate,  I'll  think  you  have 
somebody  in  partnership  on  your  shares." 

The  shock  of  this  suggested  charge  set  Leder- 
frank to  writing,  and  before  he  intended  to  do  it, 
signed  the  option.  The  next  moment  he  was  in  his 
own  private  office,  trying  to  tear  his  hair. 

"Papa,"  said  Paul,  "take  this  option.  You  can 
now  hold  your  own.  When  the  election  is  over,  I'll 
see  about  arranging  to  buy  up  those  shares.  I 
believe  M.  Dupuy  and  his  group  will  take  them. 
Raoul  Beauvais  took  the  option,  and  managed  to 

say  grudgingly :   "Good  piece  of  business,  my " 

Enthusiasm  over  seeing  the  light  again  almost  be- 
trayed him  into  saying  "son,"  but  he  stopped  in 
time.  Paul  walked  out,  and  promptly  lapsed  into 
political  ruminations. 

In  due  course,  the  Count  von  Essenhendel  re- 
ceived the  following  letter: 
"My  dear  Count, 

"I  have  made  the  business  mistake  of 
my  career.    I  am  undone.    That  son  of 


THE  EDDIES  311 

yours  got  me  into  a  corner  and  forced  me 
to  give  him  an  option  on  your  shares  for 
one  year,  at  par.  I  cannot  cope  with  this 
fellow.  He  is  not  offensive,  but  he  has 
more  brains  than  the  rest  of  us.  Advise 
me. 

"Yours  faithfully, 

"Jacob  Lederfrank." 

"Read  it!  read  it!"  roared  the  Count,  bounding 
into  Dr.  Badenheim's  office. 

"Yes;  I  see  it — your  son,  dear  Count.    Can  you 
blame  him?" 

The  Count  was  too  much  out  of  breath  to  reply. 
"I  also  have  a  letter  from  Lederfrank." 
"So!" 
"Yes." 

"Well  what  is  it?"    The  Count's  temper  flared. 
"That  son  of  yours  has  financed  the  last  install- 
ments of  our  deliveries,  which  clears  the  business." 
"No!"  shouted  the  Count. 
"Yes,  I  said." 

"And  all  of  our  schemes  have  fallen  to  earth!" 
"Yes." 

"I  can't  have  it!" 

"But  you  mean  for  Paul  to  have  the  business?" 
"Yes!  damn  it!" 

"Let  him  get  it  himself — what's  the  good  of  all 
this  flurry?  Why  do  you  want  to  fume  over  it!" 

"You  don't  know  me!   Yes,  Paul  is  to  have  the 
business,  but  he  must  receive  it  at  my  hands.    He 


3i2  THE   INVADER'S   SON 

must  acknowledge  me  as  his  father — his  overlord." 
"Oh!  are  you  still  as  crazy  as  the  Junkers  of 
1914?  Acknowledge  you  as  overlord!  There  is  no 
lord  to  a  man  of  brains.  Remember,  Count,  he's 
your  son.  Why  trouble!" 

"Trouble!  trouble!   I'll  humble  him!" 
"How?" 

"You've  been  slack  on  those  credits.    I  told  you 
to  look  out.    Shut  up   every  avenue — shut  them 
tight!   Ruin  the  business,  if  there  is  no  other  way." 
"It  is  insane!  You'll  hurt  Paul!" 
"It's  the  German  way — never  be  conquered!" 
"Yes;  it  was  the  German  way  in  the  World  War. 
They  pleaded  God  on  their  side,  and  the  Kaiser  as 
a  partner  with  Christ.   They  even  had  Gott  mit  uns, 
engraved  on  their  belts." 

Then  there  was  an  exchange  of  cashiers  between 
the  Banque  Centrale,  of  Ste.  Genevieve,  and  the 
Credit  Berliner,  of  Paris.  Edouard  Raymond  went 
to  Paris,  and  Otto  von  Eisenhendel  came  to  Ste. 
Genevieve. 

The  obliging  President  of  the  Banque  Centrale 
made  it  a  point  to  introduce  the  fair  young  German 
in  a  series  of  dinners,  at  his  home,  and  at  the  clubs. 
The  personality  of  young  von  Essenhendel  was  com- 
manding and  pleasing,  and  he  came  highly  recom- 
mended from  Paris.  In  banking  centers,  the  wealth 
and  influence  of  Count  Frederick  Wilhelm  von 
Essenhendel  was  well  known,  and  his  son  must  be 
recognized,  for  he  not  only  had  the  backing  of  the 


THE  EDDIES  313 

Essenhendel  millions,  but  he  was  himself  a  most 
capable  banker,  and  a  gentleman  of  likable  traits. 

At  a  function  at  President  d'Artourage's  chateau, 
Herr  Otto  von  Essenhendel  met  most  of  the  popular 
young  ladies  of  the  city. 

"Oh,  mamma!"  Marie  exclaimed,  drawing  the 
busy  assistant  campaign  manager  to  one  side,  "I 
met,  at  M.  d'Artourage's,  just  the  nicest  young 
man!  He's  about  the  same  size  as  Paul — only  he's 
a  blond." 

"Yes,  Marie.    Who  is  he?" 

"He's  the  new  cashier  at  the  Banque  Centrale. 
M.  d'Artourage  says  he's  a  nice  young  man." 

"What's  his  name?" 

"Von  Essenhendel.    Otto  von  Essenhendel." 

The  mother  looked  startled,  and  drew  back  as  if 
she  had  been  struck  in  the  face. 

"Why,  mamma!" 

"A  German,  my  daughter!" 

"But  I  like  him,  mamma.  I  know  he's  German, 
but  people  can't  always  be  hating  people." 

"You  must  not  like  him,  Marie!"  the  mother 
said  hoarsely — to  have  you  love  a  German  would 
spoil  my  happiness,  and  your  father  would  lose  his 
mind" 


CHAPTER   XXVII 

THE  ELECTION 

"PAPA,  do  be  quiet.  You  mustn't  be  walking  in  the 
halls  so  much.  If  you  do,  you  may  not  be  able  to 
meet  Paul  in  Hirson  tonight." 

"Don't  talk  nonsense,  Yvonne." 

"But  if  you  are  ill?" 

"111!    I'm  not  ill." 

"My  dear  papa,  you  are  ill.  Please  go  to  bed.  I 
promise  to  call  you  in  time." 

"I  can't  sleep.  I  must  think  out  the  speech  you 
have  written  for  me." 

"I  wrote  it?" 

"Yes;  I  know  you  wrote  it  for  me  to  deliver. 
Is  that  acknowledgment  enough?" 

"Oh,  the  speech  is  all  right.  Let  me  put  you  to 
bed." 

With  the  valet's  assistance,  Mademoiselle  Yvonne 
succeeded  in  getting  the  old  tiger  to  bed.  For  the 
last  three  weeks  of  the  campaign,  he  had  worried 
and  fretted.  The  vitality  of  the  younger  man  was 
too  much  for  him.  He  tried  to  quarrel  with  M. 
Paul  Beauvais,  but  it  was  of  no  use —  Beauvais 
paid  no  attention.  The  last  four  speeches  had  been 
written  out  for  him  by  Yvonne,  and  he  had  got 
on  better,  but  his  age  was  telling  on  him.  The  last 
speech,  the  one  on  the  night  before  election,  was 

314 


THE  ELECTION  315 

to  be  the  most  important  of  all,  and  ten  thousand 
people  would  be  in  the  hall  at  Hirson.  Therefore, 
it  was  important  that  de  Robincourt  should  be  well 
and  at  his  best.  Mademoiselle  Yvonne  saw  him 
close  his  eyes  in  sleep,  and  left  the  room  to  seek 
her  mother. 

"Mamma,  send  for  the  doctor  at  once.  We  must 
have  papa  well  for  tonight.  It  would  never  do  for 
him  to  miss  being  at  that  last  debate.  He  lost  con- 
siderable ground  in  those  seven  speeches  :.n  tine 
country,  where  he  got  angry — because  M.  Paul 
Beauvais  wouldn't  get  angry, — but  in  the  'ast 
speeches,  he  has  come  off  better." 

"I  have  already  sent  for  the  doctor,  Yvonne.'' 

"Of  course,  I  knew  you  would." 

"Yvonne,  you're  excited.  Your  father  will  be 
all  right." 

"But  so  much  depends." 

"One  speech  couldn't  matter.'' 

"It  could.  The  best  I  can  estimate,  the  electoral 
vote  is  about  evenly  divided.  It  may  not  matter, 
as  you  say,  but  if  father  gained  large  additions 
to  his  following  tonight — fifty  votes,  one  hundred 
votes, — it  is  very  important  that  this  speech  be 
delivered." 

The  Doctor  came,  and  said  it  was  impossible  for 
M.  de  Robincourt  to  keep  his  last  appointment.  By 
taking  complete  rest,  he  might  be  able  to  spend  elec- 
tion day  among  his  constituents,  but  he  could  not 
go  to  Hirson. 


316  THE   INVADER'S   SON 

The  valet  had  to  lock  the  door  and  refuse  to 
give  the  old  statesman  his  clothes.  Finally  Made- 
moiselle Yvonne  was  appealed  to,  and  she  talked 
the  old  fellow  into  giving-  up  so  as  to  be  on  hand 
for  the  all-important  day. 

"Of  course,  if  I'm  not  there,  M.  Paul  Beauvais 
will  not  speak/'  M.  de  Robincourt  was  saying 
drowsily,  as  the  Doctor's  medicine  began  to  take 
effect.  "He's  a  gentleman.  He  didn't  get  angry  at 
me  when  I  tried  to  make  him — I'm  sure " 

That  was  as  far  as  he  got.  Yvonne  watched  him 
until  his  breathing  became  regular.  While  her 
mother  was  smoothing  the  bedclothes,  the  daughter 
brushed  back  the  gray  locks,  kissed  the  grand  old 
man's  forehead,  and  hurried  to  dress  for  the  evening. 

In  less  than  an  hour,  the  big  de  Robincourt  car 
was  headed  for  Hirson.  The  chauffeur  was  in- 
structed to  drive  madly,  for  the  time  was  very  short. 
The  long  black  body  of  the  100  horse-power  motor 
squatted  close  to  the  ground,  and  darted  forward 
like  a  huge  beetle.  The  only  occupant  was  Made- 
moiselle Yvonne. 

Behind  the  scenes  in  the  Apollo  Theatre,  at  Hir- 
son, M.  de  Robincourt's  campaign  manager,  M. 
Henri  Valois,  was  walking  the  floor  in  a  nervous 
state.  M.  de  Robincourt  was  ill!  No  word  from 
him! — and  ten  thousand  people  waiting  for  the 
message.  They  were  already  impatient.  M.  Paul 
Beauvais  and  his  full  escort  were  sitting  on  the 
speaker's  stand.  What  was  to  be  done  ? 


THE  ELECTION  317 

"Ah!"  he  exclaimed  at  the  sight  of  Mademoiselle 
Yvonne  entering  the  side  door.  "And  your  father?" 

"He's  too  ill  to  attend,"  said  the  flushed,  deter- 
mined girl. 

"Mon  Dieu!  what  shall  we  do?  The  people! — 
they  wait,  Mademoiselle!'' 

"It's  just  the  hour,"  she  replied,  removing  her 
motor  veil. 

"Shall  I  call  Dr.  Joumonville?  He  may  agree  to 
cancel  the  debate." 

"No!"  Yvonne  said  determinedly — "would  you 
ask  quarter  of  the  opposition? — NEVER!" 

"But  what—?—" 

"I  shall  speak,  sir,"  she  said,  her  black  eyes 
flashing. 

"Mon  Dieu!— but !" 

'Mademoiselle  Yvonne  de  Robincourt  swept  past 
him,  and  went  to  the  front  of  the  stand.  She 
courtesied  to  the  opposition,  and  then  greeted  the  sea 
of  faces. 

"Ladies  and  Gentlemen, — My  father  is  unable  to 
attend  the  meeting  on  account  of  illness,  and  with 
the  permission  of  the  opposing  candidate,  I  shall 
speak  in  M.  de  Robincourt's  behalf." 

The  beautiful  young  woman  turned  to  M.  Paul 
Beauvais,  and  waited  for  his  decision. 

"My  permission  is  given,  Mademoiselle  Yvonne," 
said  Paul  without  hesitation. 

At  the  end  of  an  hour  and  a  half,  Mademoiselle 
Yvonne  yielded  the  floor.  The  deafening  buzz  that 


318  THE   INVADER'S   SON 

came  up  from  the  crowd  was  ample  evidence  that 
she  had  pleased  the  people.  M.  Paul  Beauvais  would 
have  said  it  was  the  best  speech  of  the  campaign. 
He  was  sure  she  had  won  five  hundred  votes.  Never 
had  he  been  so  tactfully  and  mercilessly  catechized 
to  the  audience. 

Dr.  Joumonville  fidgeted  in  his  chair. 

"Paul,  I  must.  It  would  never  do  for  you  to 
reply  to  that  speech,"  his  mother  was  saying. 

"But,  Madame,  think! — think!"  Dr.  Joumonville 
said. 

"I'm  thinking.  I've  been  thinking  ever  since  the 
campaign  opened.  It  is  my  time  to  speak.  Made- 
moiselle Yvonne  de  Robincourt  cannot  object  to 
my  son's  assistant  manager,  I'm  sure,  and  I  crave 
permission  to  reply  to  her,"  Madame  Beauvais  said 
sweetly,  as  she  took  up  her  position  on  the  rostrum. 

"Certainly  the  lady  must  speak,"  she  heard  Made- 
moiselle say,  without  looking  in  her  direction. 

The  audience  went  into  a  pandemonium  of 
applause.  The  occasion  was  unusual,  and  the  people 
were  quite  prepared  to  hear  the  mother's  defense. 

And  that  defense  was  ably  delivered.  Men  who 
had  heard  M.  Paul  Beauvais  night  after  night, 
listened  to  his  mother  with  sympathetic  interest. 
They  recognized  in  her  the  talents  Paul  had  in- 
herited. On  every  hand,  it  was  whispered:  "It  is 
no  wonder  the  son  is  a  great  man !"  When  she  had 
finished,  honors  were  as  nearly  even  as  could  be. 
She  replied  to  the  clever,  polite  attacks  on  her  son 


THE  ELECTION  319 

with  the  ardor  of  one  woman  against  another,  but 
without  becoming  personal.  Her  illustrations  were 
none  the  less  original  than  those  of  the  beautiful 
heiress;  the  imperialistic  theories  of  the  latter  were 
overshadowed  by  the  catchy,  heart-appealing  ex- 
position of  the  boon  of  universal  peace.  Madame 
Hermance  Beauvais'  portrayal  of  the  imaginary  in- 
vasion of  France  by  the  Yellow  Men  of  the  East 
was  so  realistic  that  women  sobbed  in  the  galleries. 
Her  closing  sentence  was :  "Vote  for  the  man  who 
will  stand  in  the  Chamber  of  Deputies  and  lead 
France  to  an  indissoluble  union !" 

The  morrow  was  a  fair  day.  With  the  rising  of 
the  sun,  men  began  to  move  towards  places  of 
voting.  Political  workers  hurried  here  and  there 
to  make  sure  nothing  had  been  overlooked.  Local 
speakers  harangued  small  knots  of  men  on  the  com- 
mons. Never  before  had  that  part  of  France  wit- 
nessed such  an  exciting  campaign.  Feeling  in  some 
sections  ran  high.  Labor  and  Socialist  agitators  in 
Hirson  and  other  manufacturing  districts,  circulated 
the  report  that  Beauvais  was  against  the  toiler,  the 
artisan,  the  mechanic,  and  they  could  not  expect 
his  support  for  laws  calculated  to  benefit  those 
classes.  By  two  o'clock  in  the  afternoon,  parades 
were  traversing  streets  in  the  towns  and  villages, 
bearing  banners  with  all  sorts  of  inscriptions,  and  in 
and  out  the  excited  throngs,  Madame  Beauvais  and 
Mademoiselle  Yvonne  went,  ceaselessly  talking  and 
arguing  for  their  respective  candidates. 


320  THE   INVADER'S   SON 

The  grizzly  Seer  of  the  Oise,  who  had  earned 
the  title — as  well  as  that  of  the  Tiger  of  Champagne 
— by  pronouncing  continuous  prophecies  of  France's 
coming  greatness,  and  attempting  to  thrust  them 
upon  the  people,  aroused  himself  at  five  o'clock  in 
the  morning,  and  would  have  beaten  his  valet  had 
that  frightened  servant  not  produced  his  clothes  at 
once.  Mademoiselle  Yvonne  heard  the  storming, 
and  would  have  come  to  the  valet's  assistance,  but 
there  were  notes  in  her  father's  voice  which  told 
her  she  had  better  keep  out.  It  was  evident  M.  de 
Robincourt's  strength  had  returned,  and  he  was 
on  the  war  path  for  the  election.  After  breakfast, 
he  and  Mademoiselle  Yvonne  left  in  the  car,  aiming 
to  call  at  every  important  center  of  voting.  But  he 
was  irritable,  and  soon  got  into  another  car,  leaving 
his  daughter  to  electioneer  in  her  own  way.  Hence 
it  happened  that  she  went  about  most  of  the  time 
unattended. 

By  one  o'clock  in  the  afternoon,  everything  was 
in  full  swing.  The  grotesqueness  of  elections  in 
England  and  America  was  revived  to  embellish  the 
oddities  of  the  French,  and  resulted  in  an  unusual 
display  of  the  spectacular.  Everyone  considered 
himself  a  plenipotentiary  for  France. 

Late  in  the  day,  in  Hirson,  Mademoiselle  Yvonne 
observed  the  gendarmes  hurrying  through  the 
streets. 

"What  is  the  disturbance?"  she  asked  of  a  man 
on  the  corner. 


THE  ELECTION  321 

"The  factory  hands  have  attacked  M.  Beauvais' 
car." 

She  ordered  her  chauffeur  to  dash  to  the  scene. 
When  she  arrived,  more  than  three  hundred  mis- 
guided mechanics  were  being  charged  by  the  police. 
They  had  surrounded  the  automobile  of  M.  Paul 
Beauvais,  and  struck  him  down  with  a  club.  Dr. 
Joumonville  was  with  him,  and  dressed  the  wound 
inflicted  on  the  outraged  candidate.  When  Made- 
moiselle Yvonne's  car  came  to  a  stop,  M.  de  Robin- 
court's  touring  motor  whisked  in  from  a  side  street. 
Instantly  the  old  Deputy  was  recognized,  and  the 
cry  went  up:  "Behold  our  hero!" 

Mademoiselle  Yvonne  stood  on  the  seat,  and  made 
signs  for  silence. 

"Shame!"  she  cried,  anger  written  on  every 
feature. 

"Shame!  men  of  France;  this  is  dishonorable! — 
it  is  a  crime!" 

In  the  hush,  a  propitiatory  voice  answered : 

"Ah,  Mademoiselle,  we  want  your  father !" 

"You  will  never  get  my  father  by  attempting  to 
murder  his  opponent.  If  father  were  elected  under 
such  circumstances,  he  would  immediately  resign. 
Shame !  Disperse !  or  I  shall  command  the  police  to 
fire  at  you.  If  you  elect  my  father  by  such  behavior, 
I  vow  he'll  never  fill  the  seat.  Go  home  every  one 
of  you!" 

The  Deputy's  bellowing  voice  sounded.  "My 
daughter  is  right — you  shall  not — you  shall  not 


322  THE  INVADER'S  SON 

elect  me  and  be  guilty  of  such  violence!  I'll  not 
have  it,  you  scoundrels !  I  would  resign  tomorrow,  if 
I  thought  one  of  your  votes  aided  me.  France  dis- 
owns you  as  her  sons.  What  dwarfed-soul  agitator 
inflamed  you  with  lies?  M.  Beauvais  is  far  more 
friendly  to  the  laboring  man  than  I — he'll  do 
more  for  you.  Get  out !  or  the  gendarmes  will  take 
you." 

Stocks  and  paving  stones  were  dropped,  and  the 
men  and  boys  in  the  rabble  hung  their  heads  and 
sneaked  away.  Beauvais'  car  moved  off  slowly  with 
Paul  towards  the  Chateau  Morestier,  and  Made- 
moiselle Yvonne  went  in  search  of  Madame 
Beauvais. 

Wildest  rumors  gained  credence,  and  people  stood 
about  the  streets,  shouting  and  gesticulating.  But 
it  did  not  matter  what  was  said.  The  deeds  of  the 
day  were  already  recorded — the  votes  were  cast,  the 
last  man  persuaded,  the  last  woman  had  pleaded 
with  her  husband  to  vote  for  peace.  The  polls  were 
closed,  and  darkness  ended  the  strife. 

In  the  public  square  in  Ste.  Genevieve,  a  large 
electric  board  had  been  erected  to  announce  the  elec- 
tion returns.  Hours  before  the  first  countings  began 
to  arrive,  thousands  of  men  and  women  were  waiting 
in  the  open,  casting  anxious  glances  at  the  dark 
object  set  on  a  tripod  fifty  feet  above  the  tallest 
building  facing  the  square.  The  hum  of  small  talk 
in  French,  interpolated  with  "oui,  oui"  and  "n'est-ce 
pas,"  floated  up  soothingly  from  the  drab-colored 


THE  ELECTION  323 

mass,  and  the  chimes  in  a  nearby  church  steeple 
spun  out  quarter  hours. 

An  arc  light  sputtered,  and  after  going  down 
several  times,  burned  brilliantly,  shedding  its  daz- 
zling flood  over  a  section  of  the  crowd.  In  the  jam 
thus  revealed,  two  big  automobiles  were  wedged 
in  side  by  side. 

"Oh,  I'm  so  glad ! Papa,  papa,  here's  M.  Paui 

Beauvais  next  to  us !  Are  you  badly  hurt  ?" 

"No,  no,  thank  you.  It  was  a  heavy  blow  on  the 
head,  but  I  seem  to  be  all  right  now." 

"I'm  so  glad ! — so  pleased  to  see  you  out  again !" 
said  Mademoiselle  Yvonne. 

"Election  Returns!"  flashed  across  the  great 
board. 

Half-said  words  died  on  lips.  Every  face  was 
upturned  to  the  silent  spokesman. 

"AVESNES — 

Beauvais,  903 
De  Robincourt,  911." 

The  sharp  smack  of  hand-clappings  broke  the 
hush.  The  board  was  illumined  again. 

"AULNOY — 

Beauvais,  287 
De  Robincourt,  149." 

The  opposition  had  a  turn  at  rejoicing.  While  they 
cheered,  the  sky  was  made  to  glow  by  the  approach 
of  a  huge  electric-lighted  airship.  It  held  undivided 
attention.  Displayed  on  a  blazing  scroll  suspended 
from  the  beak  were  the  following  sentences : 


324  THE   INVADER'S   SON 

"ENGLAND  AND  THE  UNITED  STATES  DECLARE  FOR 

REPUBLIC  ! 

INTERNATIONALISM  WINNING  IN  GERMANY!" 
"Hirson"    was    spelled    letter   by   letter   on   the 

board,  and  the  news-carrying  airship  ceased  to  be  of 

interest. 

"HiRSON — 

Beauvais,  2,014 
De  Robincourt,  1,167." 
Immediately  there  appeared: 
"STE.  GENEVIEVE — 
Beauvais,  3,989 
De  Robincourt,  1,103." 

The  crowd  became  a  sea  of  waving  hats  and 
handkerchiefs,  and  the  cries  from  the  victorious 
opposition  were  like  the  boom  of  the  ocean  on  the 
cliffs.  Other  reports  came  on  rapidly. 

M.  Piere  de  Robincourt  said  to  the  new  Deputy- 
elect  : 

"You  have  won,  sir.  My  congratulations — and 
be  true  to  France." 

He  would  not  remain  longer.  His  car  was  backed 
out,  and  bowing  to  the  people  who  had  supported 
him  for  more  than  two  decades,  M.  de  Robincourt 
ordered  the  chauffeur  to  drive  home. 

"THE  RESULT "  stood  out  in  tremulous  letters. 

"BEAUVAIS   ELECTED— Majority   in    10 
minutes." 

While  waiting  for  the  majority  figures,  lanes  were 
cleared  in  the  crowd,  and  the  Beauvais  car  moved 


THE  ELECTION  325 

along  so  that  the  new  Deputy  might  thank  his  home 
people. 

Again  all  eyes  turned  to  the  board. 

"THE  RESULT 

M.  PAUL  BEAUVAIS'  MAJORITY,  5,429!" 


CHAPTER  XXVIII 

VICTORY 

TECHNICALITIES  were  everywhere  resorted  to  in  an 
effort  to  defeat  the  International  Republic.  In  the 
United  States,  some  authorities  insisted  that  such 
a  thing  could  not  be  done  under  the  Federal  Con- 
stitution as  it  stood.  Others  said,  the  Constitution 
could  not  be  amended — the  idea  was  entirely  out  of 
the  range  of  American  liberties!  But  the  people 
clamored  for  amendments,  or  anything  that  would 
bring  the  country  into  the  new  union.  By  and  by, 
in  one  way  and  another,  after  elections  more  exciting 
than  the  Free  Silver  Campaign  of  1896,  the  Great 
American  Republic  declared  for  Internationalism. 
In  England,  a  thousand  and  one  objections  were 
raised — even  Magna  Charta  was  appealed  to  by  a 
few  old  fogies  to  save  the  Mother  of  Nations.  John 
Bull,  however,  found  a  way  to  give  his  word.  The 
German  Empire — excuses  were  more  numerous  than 
in  the  time  of  the  War  of  1914.  In  France,  by  any 
amount  of  manoeuvres,  it  was  left  to  a  vote  of  the 
Chamber  of  Deputies  to  decide  whether  or  not  a 
delegation  would  be  sent  to  the  International  Con- 
vention. 

When  all  the  elections  of  Deputies  were  re- 
ported, France  could  not  be  claimed  as  a  certainty 
for  Internationalism.  Of  the  600  odd  Deputies,  230 
were  for  and  341  against  the  proposal.  The  re- 

326 


VICTORY  327 

mainder  had  not  been  committed  to  anything.  There- 
fore, the  stand  of  France  must  be  determined  on 
the  floor  of  the  Chamber. 

M.  Pierre  de  Robincourt  and  Mademoiselle 
Yvonne  rejoiced  when  they  found  the  position  of 
France  was  so  uncertain. 

"My  district  can  go  crazy!"  exclaimed  old  de 
Robincourt,  "but  France  will  never  give  up  her 
individuality." 

"Then  you  must  not  give  up  the  fight,"  said 
Mademoiselle  Yvonne.  "Go  to  Paris  and  meet  every 
Deputy — write  letters,  make  speeches,  write  to  the 
newspapers — fight!  fight  to  the  end!  I  will  help 
you!" 

They  were  much  chagrined  over  the  Beauvais  vic- 
tory, for  it  deprived  de  Robincourt  of  his  oppor- 
tunity to  fight  Internationalism  on  the  floor  of  the 
Chamber. 

"Who  is  the  Anti-Internationalist  leader?"  asked 
Mademoiselle  Yvonne. 

"M.  Jules  de  Marquand." 

"The  leading  Deputy  from  Lyons?" 

"Yes." 

"Then,  papa,  he's  able.  Work  with  him — he's 
your  friend.  Go  to  Paris  tonight." 

And  thus  they  were  out  of  one  campaign  into 
another. 

Among  the  Deputies,  de  Robincourt  had  many 
intimates.  With  the  backing  of  241  at  the  start, 
there  might  still  be  a  chance  to  accomplish  ultimate 
defeat. 


328  THE   INVADER'S  SON 

"Of  course,  Yvonne,"  he  admitted  one  night  at 
the  hotel  in  Paris,  "England  has  declared  for  Inter- 
nationalism, so  has  the  United  States,  and  that  is 
the  big  thing  we  have  to  oppose — two  nations.  Our 
friends  in  the  circle,  have  come  out  and  admitted 
their  willingness  to  join  hands  for  peace.  They 
will  expect  France  to  unite  with  them,  and  there 
is  a  feeling  that  France  should  do  it." 

"Yes,  but  France  will  never  do  it,"  said  the 
daughter,  hoping  against  hope. 

An  extra  of  Le  Matin  was  being  sold  on  the 
street.  Yvonne  sent  for  a  copy. 

"Read,  papa!  read:  'Russia  adopts  Internation- 
alism!'" 

Pierre  de  Robincourt  got  up  and  stalked  out  into 
the  palm  court. 

It  seemed  as  though  the  entire  world  had  united 
on  the  idea  at  one  time.  Special  elections  were  being 
held  everywhere.  Conferences  with  cabinets  and 
senates  were  held  daily.  The  Great  Power  idea, 
and  the  Balance  of  Power  theory  were  struggling  in 
the  last  throes  of  death.  And  to  hurry  matters  along, 
it  was  reported  that  China  and  Japan  were  secretly 
mobilizing  troops,  and  the  English  Navy  had  cap- 
tured five  cargoes  of  rifles  intended  for  India.  The 
Yellow  Peril  was  ready  to  swoop  down  upon  Europe. 

During  these  auspicious  days,  the  French  Cham- 
ber of  Deputies  was  assembled,  and  all  business  laid 
aside  to  make  way  for  the  momentous  question. 
The  button-holing  was  all  finished;  the  last  word 


VICTORY  329 

had  been  said  by  advocates  and  lobbyists — the  Re- 
public of  France  looked  to  Paris  for  the  decision. 

M.  Paul  Beauvais  led  the  Internationalists. 

Every  seat  in  the  Chamber  was  filled,  and  crowds 
waited  in  the  streets  and  in  the  La  Place  de  la 
Concorde  across  the  Seine.  Another  magnificent 
speech  was  expected  of  M.  Paul  Beauvais.  He  had 
been  accorded  first  recognition  from  the  Chair,  and 
moved  forward  to  begin  without  delay.  It  was  his 
opportunity,  and  swiftly  and  confidently  he  carried 
his  hearers  with  him  to  the  climax.  When  he  sat 
down,  there  were  shouts  for  the  vote.  Even  Made- 
moiselle Yvonne  found  herself  saying  "Yes"  and 
"No"  alternately — her  France  must  not  be  lagging 
in  the  world  movement  for  reform! 

Again  and  again  in  Beauvais'  speech  he  had  said 
that  France  should  have  led  the  nations  of  the  world 
for  Internationalism,  and  she  would,  had  her  elec- 
tions been  earlier,  as  in  the  cases  of  other  countries. 

M.  Jules  de  Marquand  tried  to  speak,  but  order 
could  not  be  maintained  for  him.  His  voice  was 
drowned  in  howls  from  the  Deputies.  The  rappings 
of  the  gavel  availed  nothing.  At  last  he  gave  up 
and  took  his  seat,  white  with  rage. 

"The  vote!  the  vote!"  yelled  the  excited  Chamber. 

It  was  taken. 

For  INTERNATIONALISM,  368. 

Against,  241, — to  comply  with  their  pledge. 

A  motion  was  carried  by  the  opposition  to  cast 
the  vote  for  Internationalism,  and  it  was  done — 609 


330  THE   INVADER'S   SON 

votes  were  recorded  on  the  minutes  for  the  greatest 
of  all  Reformations. 

The  word  was  passed  out — someone  mounted  to 
the  steps  and  cried:  "UNANIMOUS  FOR  INTER- 
NATIONALISM !" 

Paris  palpitated  wildly  as  the  heart  of  the  Re- 
public. Scenes  in  the  streets  were  like  those  when 
the  armistice  was  signed  in  1918.  Parades  filled 
the  boulevards;  flags  and  bunting  fluttered  from 
every  shop — people  surged  to  and  fro  and  cheered 
themselves  hoarse.  Messages  of  congratulation  from 
other  Powers  were  displayed  from  electric  designs 
of  national  flags  on  Eiffel  Tower. 

One  by  one  the  other  countries  came  in — Germany 
followed  France;  then  Italy,  Spain,  Brazil,  the 
Argentine  Republic,  Mexico,  Switzerland,  Holland, 
and  Norway  and  Sweden  announced  their  decisions 
to  unite  with  the  nations  to  establish  the  Inter- 
national Republic. 

The  Hague  was  selected  for  the  place  of  meet- 
ing for  the  International  Convention. 

The  surprise  of  the  century  was  in  store  for 
civilization.  One  day  in  the  lull  that  came  after 
the  nations  had  appointed  delegates,  the  news  flashed 
to  every  part  of  the  globe:  "CHINA  AND  JAPAN 
HAVE  VOTED  FOR  INTERNATIONALISM  !"  and  man- 
kind was  moved  by  the  most  profound  acclamations 
of  universal  joy.  The  backbone  of  the  Yellow  Peril 
was  broken. 


AN  INTERNATIONALIST 

"PAPA,  papa!  please  write  to  him  to  come." 

"No,  Yvonne." 

"France  has  appointed  him  chairman  of  the  dele- 
gation to  the  International  Convention,  and  he  will 
go  to  Geneva  for  the  ist  of  November.  I  do  want 
to  see  him  before  he  goes." 

"No." 

"May  I  write  him,  requesting  him  to  call?" 

"No!" 

"May  mamma  write?" 

"The  idea!— NO!" 

"Then,  papa,  write  yourself  to  M.  Raoul  Beau- 
vais." 

"No!" 

Mademoiselle  Yvonne  wished  to  be  loyal  to  her 
father,  but  he  made  it  almost  difficult  for  her.  Since 
following  M.  Paul  Beauvais  through  the  strenuous 
campaign,  and  hearing  his  speech  in  the  Chamber  of 
Deputies,  she  admitted  she  loved  him  far  better  than 
ever  before.  She  could  not  think  of  living  without 
him.  Her  father  held  out  stoutly  against  her,  saying 
only  "No"  to  all  her  proposals.  What  would  she 
do?  Her  mother  was  quite  willing  to  help  her, 
but  the  old  tiger  of  the  place  must  be  reckoned 
with — one  fatal  mistake  with  him  would  end  every- 
thing for  all  time. 


332  THE   INVADER'S   SON 

Then  the  weeks  began  to  slip  away  silently,  and 
M.  Paul  Beauvais  made  no  effort  to  see  her.  She 
had  stopped  his  writing  long  before  the  campaign; 
she  told  him  while  standing  by  the  painting  of  "The 
Story  Immortalized"  at  the  Paris  Exposition  of 
Arts,  that  her  father  objected  to  him — but  could  he 
not  know  that  she  cared?  Ah,  the  campaign! — had 
she  gone  too  far? 

At  the  same  time,  Paul  was  considering  the  matter 
with  his  mother. 

"Paul,  if  I  were  you,  I  should  write  Yvonne  a 
note  and  ask  to  call." 

"But  it's  difficult,  mamma,"  said  Paul.  "I  fear 
she  is  so  opposed  to  my  political  views  that  she  has 
made  up  her  mind  against  me.  She  fought  me  so 
bitterly  in  the  campaign.  Her  father  is  as  uncom- 
promising as  Satan.  He  would  never  consent." 

"But  she  gave  you  to  understand  in  Paris  that 
she  cared  for  you." 

"Yes;  but  that  was  before  the  campaign.  Just 
before  I  made  the  speech  in  the  Chamber,  I  observed 
her  still  working  against  me.  I  really  never  saw 
such  a  determined  woman  in  my  life — except  my 
mother,"  and  he  smiled. 

"It  only  proves,  Paul,  that  she's  true  to  her  con- 
victions." 

"That  may  be." 

"I'm  sure  you  won  her  over  by  your  speech  in 
the  Chamber  of  Deputies." 

"I  hoped  I  had.    If  she  could  see  this  reform  in 


AN  INTERNATIONALIST  333 

the  true  light,  she  would  change  her  views,  and  be 
as  ardent  for  it  as  you  are — she  may  now  be  look- 
ing at  it  entirely  from  a  different  point  of  view." 

"If  I  could  speak  with  her  for  fifteen  minutes!" 

"Paul,  it's  a  shame!   May  I  write  to  her?" 

"No,  that  wouldn't  do." 

"I  could  certainly  write  to  M.  de  Robincourt — I 
wrote  to  him  before." 

"Yes,  yes;  but  it  would  look  too  much  like  plead- 
ing the  cause  of  a  school  boy.  I'm  now  a  man.  I 
must  find  a  way  of  winning  this  lady — if  she  cares. 
I  must  find  out.  I  can't  live  without  her.  It's  for 
me  to  decide  what  I  shall  do." 

"Then  find  the  way.  Go  to  the  home  of  de  Robin- 
court,  and  request  an  interview.  You  can  always 
do  that.  If  it's  refused,  you  will  know  what  next 
to  do." 

"While  I'm  in  Switzerland  next  week  with  Alfred 
and  Victor,  I'll  think  it  out  for  myself.  A  month's 
reflection  will  do  no  harm." 

The  position  was  thus;  and  if  Paul  and  Yvonne 
had  only  known!  It  seems  that  such  tangles  and 
heart  aches  are  necessary, — even  from  the  beginning 
of  time. 

Mademoiselle  Yvonne  read  in  the  papers  that  the 
Deputy  was  leaving  Ste.  Genevieve  immediately  to 
spend  a  vacation  in  Switzerland,  with  his  brothers, 
before  the  International  Convention.  He  would  re- 
turn to  Chateau  Morestier  shortly  after  the  ist 
of  October.  Her  heart  beat  slowly — it  was  so  dis- 


334  THE   INVADER'S   SON 

appointing  for  him  to  go  away  without  her  seeing 
him.  Was  there  no  way  to  end  this  waiting  and 
suspense?  Did  he  care?  Had  she  killed  his  love? 

Mademoiselle  Yvonne  thought  the  situation  out 
for  herself.  She  clapped  her  hands  gleefully.  "I 
know  what  I  shall  do !  I'm  convinced  he's  right  after 
all.  The  International  Republic  is  the  big  idea.  It 
is  exactly  what  the  world  needs.  I  see  it  clearly 
now,  and  I'm  an  Internationalist!  I  shall  write  to 
M.  Paul  Beauvais,  informing  him  that  my  views 
have  changed,  and  will  give  him  credit  for  having 
converted  me  by  his  Paris  speech. 

Then  she  changed  her  mind. 

"No,  no;  I  couldn't  do  that.  Paul  would  know 
I  had  another  motive  cloaked  in  the  letter.  He  might 
even  think  my  declaration  of  Internationalism  in- 
sincere. No,  that  would  not  do." 

She  walked  alone  in  the  fields  for  an  hour;  then 
turned  with  a  bright,  cheerful  face,  and  a  look  of 
deep-set  purpose.  Removing  her  hat,  and  sending 
her  two  dogs  to  gambol  on  the  grounds,  she  ran  up 
to  her  work-shop,  a  tiny  room  at  the  top  of  the 
palace,  where  no  one  was  permitted  to  enter  unless 
she  extended  an  invitation.  It  was  kept  by  Made- 
moiselle Yvonne  herself;  had  been  furnished  by  her, 
and  everything  in  it  was  hers — there  she  did  as  she 
liked,  and  had  no  fear  of  being  interrupted. 

In  the  center  was  a  large  table,  and  upon  enter- 
ing, Yvonne  surveyed  it  quickly  with  her  eyes.  Yes, 
it  would  be  about  the  right  length.  She  could  work 


AN  INTERN  A  TIONALIST  335 

out  on  it  the  idea  that  had  occurred  to  her  while 
strolling  in  the  meadows.  It  would  be  about  the 
proper  proportions — six  feet  by  twelve  feet. 

That  afternoon  she  went  to  Ste.  Genevieve  and 
Hirson,  and  came  back  with  several  bundles,  which 
were  immediately  taken  by  her  to  the  work-shop. 

For  about  ten  days,  the  family  saw  very  little  of 
Mademoiselle  Yvonne.  They  knew  where  she  was, 
and  no  one  asked  questions.  They  supposed  she 
painted  some  new  china,  or  did  special  embroidery. 
Her  father  fretted  at  her  seclusion,  but  she  laughed 
at  him;  kissed  him,  and  told  him  to  be  content  for 
a  little  while. 

At  last  her  work  was  completed — as  far  as  she 
could  accomplish  it,  and  the  remaining  portion  must 
come  from  Paris,  where  the  order  had  been  sent 
for  execution. 

One  evening  it  arrived — a  package  more  than 
twelve  feet  long — carefully  done  up,  addressed  to 
Mademoiselle  Yvonne  de  Robincourt.  The  father 
was  present  when  it  came. 

"Yvonne,  what's  this?" 

Simply  she  answered : 

"It's  a  flagstaff." 

"A  flagstaff!  What  do  you  want  with  a  flag- 
staff?" 

"Oh,  this  is  a  very  fine  one!" 

Mademoiselle  Yvonne  directed  the  servant  to  un- 
wrap the  package. 

"Yes;  'fine  one!'  But  if  it  were  gold,  what  would 


336  THE   INVADER'S  SON 

you  do  with  it — France  is  not  what  she  was  once!" 

"Nonsense,  papa !  France  is  greater  than  she  ever 
was.  You  are  the  most  stubborn  statesman  I  ever 
heard  of  in  the  whole  of  France.  Everybody  is  con- 
vinced that  Internationalism  is  the  thing — I  mean 
everyone  who  has  brains,  except  you.  Why  will 
you  be  so  unyielding?  You  know  M.  Paul  Beauvais 
is  right — you  have  half  admitted  it  to  me." 

"Never!  NEVER!" 

"Well,  then,  you  didn't.   But  I'm  convinced." 

"What!" 

"Yes,  I'm  an  INTERNATIONALIST!" 

"Yvonne!" 

"It's  true." 

Once  more  M.  Pierre  de  Robincourt  stamped 
about  the  large  room. 

Yvonne  was  laughing.  She  usually  paid  no  atten- 
tion to  the  bearish  old  man,  who  almost  worshipped 
her — except  in  the  one  thing  that  meant  most  to 
her. 

"Does  the  announcement  cause  you  to  forget  the 
flagstaff,  papa?  It  is  done  in  gold." 

The  old  man  turned  back,  and  looked  on  while 
the  servant  unwound  yards  and  yards  of  tissue  paper. 
Finally  the  flagstaff  was  reached. 

"Isn't  it  a  pretty  one?  Look,  papa,  at  the  spear- 
head on  top,  and  the  gold  cord  and  tassels !" 

"Yes;  I  see — but  what's  it  all  about?" 

"Oh,  I  knew  you'd  ask!  In  ten  minutes,  walk 
down  to  the  fountain,  then  turn  about  and  look. 


AN  INTERNATIONALIST  337 

You  will  then  see.  Promise  me,  papa,  you  will  not 
look  until  you  get  to  the  fountain  at  the  farther 
side  of  the  grounds." 

"Look  at  what?"  demanded  M.  de  Robincourt  in 
what  anyone  else  except  Mademoiselle  Yvonne 
would  have  said  was  an  angry  voice. 

"At  the  top  of  the  Chateau,  mon  per  el"  she  an- 
swered, making  a  pretty  grimace  at  him.  "Take 
mamma  with  you." 

Madame  de  Robincourt  was  a  good,  easy-going 
body,  ready  to  do  anyone's  bidding,  and  never 
grumbled  at  anything.  Only  on  matters  of  etiquette 
and  social  conventions  was  she  firm. 

"Come!"  said  the  gruff  old  fellow,  taking  his 
kind-hearted  wife  by  the  arm.  "Yvonne  is  up  to 
some  prank — she  wants  us  to  go  to  the  Marie 
Antoinette  Fountain,  and  not  look  back  until  we 
get  there." 

"Well,  Pierre,  if  the  child  wants  us  to  go " 

"That's  just  it — Yvonne  will  never  cease  to  be  a 
child,  God  bless  her!"  and  the  bellowing  voice 
sounded  strange  in  the  new  role. 

"Ah,  well,  we  shall  go." 

Mademoiselle  Yvonne  stood  on  the  parapet  of 
the  central  cupola,  and  watched  her  parents  tramp 
out  to  the  fountain  to  satisfy  her  whim.  They  turned 
slowly  and  looked. 

Yvonne  waved  a  large  flag,  which  she  had  at- 
tached to  the  beautiful  golden  staff  that  had  just 
been  received  from  Paris.  The  old  couple  shaded 


338  THE   INVADER'S   SON 

their  eyes  to  make  it  out.  It  was  unlike  any  flag 
they  had  ever  seen.  Yvonne  held  the  staff  up  higher, 
and  the  wind  caught  the  folds  of  fine  silk.  The 
wide  sheet  spread  out  and  smiled  on  the  world  for 
the  first  time.  The  father  and  mother  saw  it  plainly 
then —  the  bright  red  flag,  with  a  single  large  white 
star  in  the  center;  a  blue  field  in  the  upper  left-hand 
corner,  filled  with  a  lot  of  pretty  designs.  M.  de 
Robincourt  looked  again.  He  made  them  out — flags 
in  miniature  of  all  the  nations.  Mademoiselle 
Yvonne's  voice  rang  out  clear  and  distinct:  "It  is 
the  FLAG  OF  THE  INTERNATIONAL  REPUBLIC!  I 
dedicate  it  to  the  World  of  Peace,  and  may  it  ever 
wave  over  land  and  sea  and  be  loved  by  generations 
and  generations  until  the  end  of  time." 

"And  unfurled  over  my  home!"  he  roared  back. 

"Yes !"  she  cried,  merry  peals  of  laughter  ringing 
out  in  the  autumn  air,  "this  is  where  it  begins  its 
career, — salute  it,  sir!" 

She  kept  calling  to  them  to  salute  it,  until  both 
of  them  did  as  she  wished.  Old  Pierre  de  Robin- 
court  gave  in  good-humoredly,  and  saluted  in  grand 
style.  Mademoiselle  Yvonne  was  satisfied,  and  came 
on  down  into  the  gallery  with  her  creation. 

"What  are  you  going  to  do,  Yvonne  ?"  asked  her 
father. 

"I'm  going  to  display  this  flag  on  the  north  wall, 
until  I  take  it  elsewhere." 

"What!" 

"This  flag — THE  FLAG  OF  THE  INTERNATIONAL 


AN  INTERN  A  TIONAL1ST  339 

REPUBLIC — is  to  be  displayed  immediately  on  the 
north  wall  of  the  gallery." 

"I  wouldn't  do  that !" 

"Yes  you  would,  if  you  were  an  Internationalist,'" 
said  Yvonne,  quickly  assuming  an  attitude  for  de- 
fensive argument. 

"Let  her  have  her  way,  Pierre,"  pleaded  the 
mother. 

Mademoiselle  Yvonne  needed  no  further  consent. 
She  did  not  wait  for  her  father  to  speak,  but  pro- 
ceeded to  direct  the  servant  who  was  placing  the 
hook  and  socket,  so  that  the  flag  would  hang  prettily 
towards  "The  Story  Immortalized."  M.  de  Robin- 
court  said  something  about  his  daughter's  willful- 
ness, but  secretly  he  admired  the  flag  she  had  made. 

"Yvonne,  you're  just  as  whimsical  as  you  were 
when  you  used  to  steal  Dante  out  and  ride  him  at 
the  risk  of  your  life." 

"Oh,  that  hasn't  been  so-  very  long  ago !  Why 
should  I  be  different  ?  I  wish  Dante  were  as  gay  now 
as  he  was  then.  I  would  ride  him  to  Ste.  Genevieve 
and  back  on  a  run." 

"Ride  him,  Yvonne.  You  have  been  playing  for 
more  than  three  months — very  much  like  a  child. 
Ride  Dante,  and  then,  perhaps,  you'll  be  satisfied." 

"Do  you  mean  it,  papa?" 

"Certainly! — Dante's  not  so  spirited  as  he  was, 
but  he's  still  a  very  fine  horse.  Ride  him." 

"Will  you  come  with  me?" 

"No;  I'll  stay  here  and  haul  down  your  flag!" 


340  THE   INVADER'S   SON 

"No,  you  won't — the  flag-  is  going  to  stay  there !" 

"Jean,  bring  Dante  for  Mademoiselle,"  said  de 
Robincourt. 

Yvonne  ran  off  to  her  rooms  to  search  for  the  red 
riding  habit  of  which  she  thought  so  much  when 
she  was  the  terror  of  all  the  horses — and  especially 
of  Dante.  She  found  it,  and  let  down  her  hair,  just 
as  she  wore  it  eight  years  before,  at  the  age  of  six- 
teen. When  she  appeared  before  her  father,  in  spite 
of  his  severe  dignity,  he  smiled,  and  dropped  a  mock 
courtesy.  The  mother  threw  up  her  hands  in  a  sort 
of  mild  dismay. 

"My  pretty  Yvonne!"  said  the  father,  "you're  just 
as  you  were  then.  You're  more  beautiful.  How 
becoming — go!  Dante  is  waiting!" 

The  hue  of  the  Robincourt  Forest  was  a  blending 
of  red  and  gold.  Not  a  twig  stirred  in  the  bank  of 
dying  leaves.  Long  shafts  of  light  streamed  low 
over  the  heights  and  warmed  the  somber  trunks  of 
trees.  Yvonne  entered  the  arched  roadway  in  the 
wood,  riding  Dante  at  an  easy  canter,  and  was  soon 
lost  to  the  loving  gaze  of  the  old  couple  at  the 
gate.  On  and  on  the  clumsy  Dante  carried  her,  while 
the  fire  of  his  former  days  awoke,  and  by  and  by, 
the  gaiety  of  her  mood  rejuvenated  the  dream  of 
her  maiden  adventure.  If  that  Summer  morning 
could  only  come  again!  But  she  feared  time  had 
changed  everything.  Evening  had  come,  and  she 
feared  the  gloomy  night  would  leave  her  alone.  For 
how  could  she  go  on  when  he  did  not  care? — her 


AN  INTERN  A  TIONALIST  341 

soul  was  too  proud  to  admit  that  she  mourned  for 
him — she  must  remember  and  not  be  sad ! 

Another  rider  moved  into  the  straight  way  at 
the  upper  end.  His  steed  was  black — and  clumsy, 
too !  He  was  coming  towards  Mademoiselle  Yvonne. 
She  cried  aloud  from  sheer  happiness :  "Dante,  run 
away  with  me!"  But  Dante's  reckless  colt  antics 
were  in  the  past,  and  he  merely  pricked  up  his  ears 
and  jogged  on — his  fair  mistress  could  not  urge 
him  into  the  pace  that  would  send  him  sprawling 
at  the  crossing. 

Paul  Beauvais  and  Mademoiselle  Yvonne  met  at 
the  crossing — for  while  she  played  with  her  flag, 
and  was  coaxed  by  her  father  to  ride  old  Dante 
again,  by  a  singular  coincidence,  Paul  persuaded  him- 
self to  ride  his  pet,  Louis  XIV.,  to  M.  de  Robincourt 
to  learn  his  fate.  He  could  not  believe  she  came 
meeting  him,  but  when  speaking  distance  had  been 
gained,  there  was  no  doubt,  it  was  like  unto  all 
the  clever  stories — only  this  one  was  real.  Smiles 
brightened  his  face  for  the  salutation. 

"Yvonne!"  he  called,  imitating  the  rescue. 

"And  you  were  coming?" 

"Yes — and  you  wanted  me  to  come?" 

The  last  blink  of  the  sun  flickered  in  her  face, 
and  he  saw  his  answer. 

Several  minutes  later,  she  held  him  at  arm's  length, 
and  looked  long  into  his  eyes.  "It  is  true,  then, 
that  you  are  mine  forever!" 

"Of  course!" 


342  THE   INVADER'S   SON 

"Shall  we  dismount  and  walk  as  on  that  first  day  ? 
I'll  send  Dante  on  ahead." 

But  Dante  would  not  go.  He  did  not  understand 
why  he  should  be  deserted  in  the  Forest,  and,  after 
considerable  persuasion,  he  walked  along  lazily  in 
front  of  them  towards  home. 

Again  the  mother  was  anxious.  It  was  almost 
dark,  and  Dante  was  seen  coming,  riderless.  But 
old  Pierre  de  Robincourt  said: 

"You  know  Yvonne  has  not  finished  all  her 
pranks.  I  never  saw  such  a  girl.  She'll  be  back  in 
time  for  dinner." 

Pierre  de  Robincourt  gave  his  consent.  His 
cordial  reception  of  the  now  famous  young  Deputy 
was  a  surprise  to  Mademoiselle  and  to  Paul.  M.  de 
Robincourt  monopolized  Paul  to  such  an  extent  that 
Yvonne  complained.  But,  no,  the  man  who  could 
defeat  him  as  Paul  had  done,  was  entitled  to  every 
attention.  And  so  the  daughter  had  to  give  way, 
and  share  her  joy  with  her  father.  Finally,  M.  de 
Robincourt  escorted  Paul  into  the  gallery  and 
showed  him  the  flag  of  the  International  Republic. 

"It's  Yvonne's  whim,"  M.  de  Robincourt  hastened 
to  say. 

"It  shall  be  more  than  a  whim.  I  shall  propose 
it  to  the  International  Convention.  It  is  a  capital 
idea,  and  to  be " 

"Don't  say  it,  Paul.  An  enemy  of  the  cause  never 
made  it.  I'm  an  INTERNATIONALIST  !" 


AN  INTERN  A  TIONALIST  343 

He  took  her  hands  in  his,  and  the  father  stalked 
on,  pretending  to  examine  some  of  the  paintings. 

"Papa,  you  may  come  back  now.  I  want  to  ask 
you  a  question  in  the  presence  of  Paul." 

"Yes,  yes,"  he  said,  looking  at  the  young  couple 
queerly  from  under  his  shaggy  eyebrows. 

"Why  wouldn't  you  write  to  Paul  and  tell  him 
to  come, — or  why  wouldn't  you  let  me  write?" 

"Because  I  wanted  to  know  if  he  cared  enough  for 
you  to  come  of  his  own  free  will !"  snapped  the 
old  man  in  his  usual  brusque  tones. 


CHAPTER  XXX 

REALITIES 

"So !  we  are  one  with  the  other  again,  Mademoiselle 
Marie.  It  is  a  great  party,  this  that  Madame  Tern- 
tier  is  giving  tonight." 

"Yes,  Herr  von  Essenhendel." 

"Shall  we  go  a  little  in  the  palm  court?" 

Mademoiselle  Marie  Beauvais  left  a  gay  group 
of  friends  reluctantly,  and  followed  the  young 
banker  a  short  distance,  and  then  they  walked  on 
side  by  side. 

"I've  not  seen  you  very  much  since  the  ball  at 
the  president's  home — twice  only,  I  believe." 

"I've  not  been  from  home  so  much." 

"I  see  your  father  every  day  at  the  bank." 

"Yes." 

"We've  not  had  much  time  to  talk,  Mademoiselle." 

"No?"  she  said  ill  the  form  of  a  question;  then 
realized  he  was  referring  to  conversation  with  her. 

"I  had  hoped  the  few  times  we  have  met,  I  should 
have  been  with  you  more,  but  there  were  others." 

Marie  could  not  see  the  import  of  these  remarks, 
and  felt  uncomfortable. 

"But  we  are  now  together  once  more,  and  I  shall 
speak." 

She  looked  at  him  wonderingly,  but  was  power- 
less to  stop  him  from  saying  whatever  he  had  in 
mind. 

344 


REALITIES  345 

They  walked  on  some  distance  under  the  arbor 
beyond  the  fountain,  and  Herr  von  Essenhendel 
placed  himself  as  if  to  bar  her  escape  through  the 
trellised  entrance. 

"I  have  come  to  ask  you,  Mademoiselle  Marie, 
to  marry  me." 

"I'm  sorry,  sir,  that  you  ask  me  to  marry  you. 
I  know  of  no  one  who  is  forcing  you  to  such  a 
desperate  step." 

"On,  no,  no.  You  do  not  understand — I  mean 
that  I'm  so-  much  in  love  with  you  that  I  must  ask 
you." 

"Really!  well,  I'm  sorry  again.  I  don't  love  you 
at  all,  and  I  don't  feel  that  I'm  obliged  to  say, 
'Yes!'" 

Herr  von  Essenhendel  saw  that  Mademoiselle 
Marie  was  taking  him  very  lightly — even  laughing 
at  him.  He  did  not  intend  to  appear  flippant,  and 
began  to  get  confused  at  the  way  she  received  his 
declaration  of  love. 

"Oh,  Mademoiselle  Marie,  you  do  not  under- 
stand. I'm  not  joking — I " 

"Neither  am  I !"  she  said  merrily,  but  with  an 
earnest  note  in  her  voice. 

"I— I  do  love  you." 

"It  will  be  well  for  you  to  think  again,  Herr  Otto. 
You  may  be  deceiving  yourself." 

He  flushed  a  little,  and  turned  as  if  to  go.  How- 
ever, the  persistency  of  his  race  drove  him  back  to 
the  task,  and  he  looked  straight  and  rather  hard 


346  THE   INVADER'S   SON 

into  the  pretty,  coquettish  face  of  Marie,  and  said: 

"Love-making  does  not  come  to  my  hand  as 
easily  as  banking,  but  I  don't  wish  you  to  laugh 
at  me,  without  comprehending  that  I'm  sincere,  and 
have  really  come  to  love  you  very  much." 

She  listened  patiently,  and  felt  ashamed  of  having 
been  rude  to  him.  He  seemed  to  be  a  young  man 
of  refinement,  and  everyone  spoke  favorably  of  him. 

"My  father,  Mademoiselle,  is  a  very  knowing  man 
— he  really  makes  it  his  business  to  know  about 
everyone  of  note,  or,  that  I  would  say,  amounts  to 
anything.  I  don't  know  why,  but  such  is  the  case. 
He  called  me  to  him  from  Paris,  and  told  me  of 
certain  business  here  in  Ste.  Genevieve — so  and  so, 
and  then  he  told  me  to  come  here  and  marry  you." 

"The  idea !"  she  exclaimed  indignantly. 

"I'm  only  telling  you;  please  hear  me  to  the  end, 
and  you  can  do  as  you  like." 

"The  business,  yes,  I  could  undertake  that,  but  I 
kept  my  own  counsel  about  the  love  affair.  I  didn't 
say  yea,  and  I  didn't  say  nay — it's  not  wise  to  con- 
trary one's  father.  Well,  I  came.  You  I  met  at  the 
president's  house,  and  I  liked  you  at  once — I  throw 
myself  at  your  feet,  and  acknowledge  that  my  father 
is  right — you  are  the  girl  for  me." 

"Nonsense!  Herr  von  Essenhendel,  I  can't  marry 
you,  and  I  don't  want  to  hurt  you — but  no  more  of 
this.  I  want  you  to  tell  me,  however,  what  your 
father  knows  of  me." 

"He  did  not  tell  me." 


REALITIES  347 

"Who  is  your  father?" 

"Count  von  Essenhendel." 

"I  wish  you  success  in  your  business,  but  you  may 
report  to  your  father  that  you  cannot  marry  the 
lady  he  has  selected,  because  she  refuses/' 

"Perhaps,  Mademoiselle,  if  you  would  allow  me 
to  speak  pointedly,  you  would  change  your  mind 
when  the  business  begins  to  pinch.  My  father  didn't 
explain  the  business  to  me  either;  didn't  tell  me 
why  I  should  do  so  and  so,  but  he  told  me  how  to 
do  it,  and  I  have  obeyed — if  I'm  not  mistaken,  your 
father  is  quite  within  my  father's  net  already,  and 
you  may  be  glad  to  consider  my  offer." 

Marie  flushed  in  anger.  The  insinuation  of  the 
young  German  was  unbelievable. 

"How  dare  you  to  hint  to  me  that  I  must  marry 
you !  Leave  me  instantly ! — never  speak  to  me  after 
this!" 

"As  you  like,  Mademoiselle,"  he  said.  "I  would 
have  it  otherwise,  but  your  pleasure  is  granted  for 
the  moment." 

Marie  hurried  back  to  her  friends,  and  soon  found 
an  excuse  for  returning  home.  The  experience  with 
Herr  von  Essenhendel  was  so  exasperating  that  she 
had  taken  a  violent  headache. 

On  arriving  at  the  Chateau  Morestier,  she  called 
to  her  mother,  and  related  all  that  had  been  said  by 
von  Essenhendel. 

"It  is  true,  Marie,  that  for  some  unknown  reason 
your  father  has  been  drawn  into  difficulties  in  his 


348  THE   INVADER'S   SON 

business.  He  has  not  mentioned  to  me  this  particu- 
lar bank — there  are  others, — and  I  don't  know 
whether  he  has  said  anything  about  this  new  cashier. 
Probably  he  does  not  suspect  him.  Anyway,  you 
acted  wisely.  Please  do  not  mention  the  affair  to 
anyone  else." 

"Why,  mamma,  you  know  I  wouldn't — I  couldn't 
think  of  such  a  thing.  You  will  tell  papa  about  the 
business  ?" 

"Your  father  and  I  shall  talk  about  his  business, 
but  I  don't  think  it  wise  to  connect  your  affair  with 
it,  Marie." 

Madame  Beauvais  retired  to  her  room,  but  not 
to  sleep.  The  information  brought  to  her  by  Marie 
was  astounding.  What  object  could  Count  von 
Essenhendel  have  in  ruining  her  husband;  at  the 
same  time  want  his  son  to  wed  her  daughter?  She 
had  been  puzzled  over  the  business  tangles  for  the 
past  three  years — could  it  be  that  von  Essenhendel 
had  been  at  the  bottom  of  all  the  troubles?  She 
was  sure  Raoul  did  not  know  this — did  she  dare  to 
tell  him  ?  Raoul  had  never  succeeded  in  getting  from 
her  the  name  of  the  invader — it  was  not  supposed 
that  she  had  ever  heard  of  him  again;  but  she  was 
now  forced  to  face  a  difficult  situation  in  which  it 
might  be  necessary  to  discuss  the  matter  with  Raoul, 
in  order  that  they  might  circumvent  this  brutal  Ger- 
man, who  was  evidently  pursuing  her  and  her  hus- 
band. What  could  be  his  intention  ? 

The  fact  was,  notwithstanding  the  credits  estab- 


REALITIES  349 

lished  by  Paul,  and  the  advantage  gained  by  securing 
the  option  from  Lederfrank,  the  business  had  gone 
on  into  a  worse  tangle  than  ever.  The  Paris  house 
found  an  excuse  for  cancelling  the  agreement  for 
credits.  Other  banks  began  to  curtail  money  sup- 
plies, and  the  end  of  the  long  struggle  seemed  to 
be  very  near.  Another  difficulty  also  was  that  neither 
Lederfrank  nor  Beauvais  could  understand  the  com- 
plication. Lederfrank,  of  course,  knew  the  source 
of  origin,  for  he  worked  in  a  dual  capacity — he  knew 
that  Count  von  Essenhendel  operated  in  his  mys- 
terious ways.  Since  the  error  he  had  made  in  grant- 
ing the  option  to  Paul  Beauvais,  the  Jew  had  been 
kept  out  of  the  secret  workings  of  the  Count  and 
Dr.  Badenheim.  As  for  Raoul  Beauvais,  he  did  not 
have  sufficient  knowledge  of  the  background  to  be 
able  to  suspect  anyone,  except  his  partner,  Leder- 
frank. He  could  not  reconcile  his  conduct,  how- 
ever, with  the  endless  troubles  that  they  were  getting 
into,  for  Lederfrank  was  quite  as  much  surprised 
and  baffled  as  anyone.  There  were  many  dangers 
threatening,  and  no  door  of  escape  left  open.  If 
something  could  not  be  done  at  once,  the  business 
must  go  into  the  hands  of  a  receiver. 

The  sorely  tried  Raoul  finally  came  to  the  con- 
clusion it  would  be  better  to  sell  his  shares  to  Leder- 
frank— if  such  a  thing  were  possible.  In  the  begin- 
ning of  the  difficulties,  Lederfrank  had  offered  to 
purchase  his  shares,  and  had  referred  to  the  offer 
several  times  since.  Hence  one  evening,  when  Raoul 


350  THE   INVADER'S   SON 

sat  in  his  library  exhausted  and  discouraged,  from 
trying  to  solve  their  problems,  he  came  to  the  con- 
clusion that  he  should  sell,  and,  after  dinner,  so 
expressed  himself  to  Madame  Beauvais. 

"Marie  told  me  something  last  night,  Raoul,  that 
may  interest  and  surprise  you.  Of  course,  if  you 
sell  your  shares,  I  don't  know  how  it  will  be  of 
any  particular  concern.  Anyway,  I  think  you  are 
wise  to  let  the  shares  go — you  have  a  comfortable 
fortune  laid  aside,  which  is  not  involved  in  the 
money  difficulties  of  the  firm,  and  I  would  get  out 
and  take  life  easy." 

"What  did  Marie  tell  you?" 

"Why,  at  Madame  Territier's,  a  friend  told  her 
that  one  of  the  banks  here  was  working  to  entrap 
your  business,  and  some  new  cashier  was  at  the 
bottom  of  that  institution's  operations." 

"That  would  be  the  German  who  has  recently 
come  on  from  Paris,"  said  Raoul,  sitting  up  as  if 
trying  to  think  harder;  "but  such  a  position  is  not 
an  important  one  in  continental  banks — more  so 
than  twenty  years  ago, — but  this  German  is  only  a 
youngster.  I  can  scarcely  believe  such  a  thing  pos- 
sible. The  bank  has  always  been  friendly  to  me, 
and  I  can  remember  no  particular  instance  where  I 
have  had  any  controversy  with  this  young  man. 
We've  had  some  business  with  him  during  the  last 
four  months,  but  it  was  all  brought  on  by  trans- 
actions with  other  banks.  The  trouble  is  general, 
Hermance — it's  in  the  air,  and  Marie  has  only  heard 


REALITIES  351 

what  many  other  people  know.  It  will  make  no 
difference  in  the  end.  I'm  thoroughly  tired,  and 
shall  give  up  tomorrow,  if  Mr.  Leder frank  sticks 
to  his  original  offer." 

The  subject  was  dropped.  During  the  next  half 
hour,  Raoul  and  Hermance  sat  reading  two  of  the 
latest  magazines. 

"Oh,  by  the  way,  Hermance,  I  saw  today  the 
public  announcement  of  the  wedding-to-be  between 
Paul  and  old  de  Robincourt's  daughter.  The  bans 
will  be  published  beginning  on  Sunday  at  St. 
Joseph's.  You  hadn't  told  me  about  this." 

"No.  You  and  I  agreed  several  years  ago  on 
this  matter  of  Paul's  welfare.  As  a  mother  should, 
and  especially  in  view  of  our  understanding,  I  didn't 
say  anything  to  you." 

"H'm!  Well,  I  think  you  should  tell  Paul  of  his 
origin.  I  don't  think  he  would  wish  to  go  on  with 
this,  if  he  knew.  He  would  at  least  have  the  op- 
portunity of  being  honorable  with  Yvonne  de  Robin- 
court.  You  know  old  Pierre  would  be  furious  if  he 
found  it  out  afterwards." 

"But  how  is  he  to  find  it  out?  Only  you  and  I 
and  Dr.  Joumonville  know  it — even  Grand-mere 
Dauphin  is  now  dead." 

"Isn't  it  enough  that  we  know  it?  Don't  you 
think,  Hermance,  we  should  tell  Paul?" 

Hermance  began  to  cry  silently,  but  managed  to 
say :  "Probably  we  should."  After  further  hesitancy, 
she  went  on : 


THE   INVADER'S   SOX 

"WTiat  good,  though,  would  come  of  it?  Would 
it  not  spoil  his  life?  Such  information  would  never 
be  kept  by  Paul  from  Yvonne,  and  M.  de  Robin- 
court  might  break  up  what  I  consider  a  most  con- 
genial love  affair.  Would  it  be  just  to  Paul  ?  He's 
not  responsible  in  any  way;  you  have  long  before 
now  agreed  that  I'm  not  to  blame — why  put  a 
stumbling  block  in  the  way  of  such  a  promising — 
yes.  great — yjung  man: 

"I  hardly  expected  that  we  could  agree,  Her- 
mance.  It's  a  matter  of  conscience." 

"I  don't  see  it  that  way." 

'*!  insist,"  said  the  husband,  almost  losing  control 
of  himself.  "Paul  must  be  told,  and  you  must  tell 
him." 

"Why  make  it  so  hard  for  me?  I'm  happy  that 
you  think  somewhat  better  of  Paul,  although  you 
will  never  yield  sufficient  to  win  him  back.  I  think 
it  is  almost  stupid  of  you.  You  told  me  that  when 
he  had  accomplished  so  much  for  you  in  business, 
he  did  it  unselfishly,  and  you  felt  ashamed  you  had 
so  misjudged  him.  Why  don't  you  say  this  to  Paul, 
and  receive  him  as  your  son?  You  could  then  talk 
with  him,  and  he  would  understand  why  you  have 
been  so  bitter  against  him  all  these  years.  The  Inter- 
national Convention  will  finish  its  work  in  a  few 
days,  if  it  is  not  already  finished,  and  Paul  will 
return  probably  covered  with  honors.  Oh,  Raoul, 
yon  cannot  be  so  crud  as  to  spoil  the  future  for 
this  boy!  Why  must  you  give  in  now,  and  insist 


REALTIES 

• '  ~  ~-_~       \  ".'.  ~        *""..  :>~T'i  "     ~       ~.       _~  I"       I*f        .1-1 

i"  ~."c  "~:"t*":    -  ~  -.r.  1  >  ~.  ~.~.. -.~~~. 
.r.-^r   ::ir~;    : :    '.-.•-.    >•>  : :  :    '-'-. 


"Hot  isn't  vloft  I  mean*— that  he  is  a 
Psnl  has  aB^rays  been  br^fat.  He  is  C 

i".tr    "_~.iJ~.     -     ~".'-.  ~. 'i*I"l t"l.     ".- ".' I'C.i".". 

"I  dBB  not  argrae  vitth  JOB  bejcod  what  I 
already  said.   Think  tins  over.   I  fed  Pzni 


Z-:  .:  ..  :..::  "i^e  :  i-:  :  ±01.:  ::r  ?i:il 
DossiOBe  popn  cooflu  pf  acoooopil&SDeQ  •  J.  COOL  oJi 
ccorse,  yon  IBVC  always  been,  unjii&l.  to  hnnv  and. 
•MOT  you  wradd  fimBf  spoil  his  fntrar  T 

-  "<  r    "~.  t'l      _~.  t TT~l.ir"  1 1      ""     I't     J  •"_" .  tT"    '  :-t .     IliJT.   ". 

The  resentment  is  so  s&iojag  in  me  thai  I  cannnt 
cor_; 


tioo:  "Is  it  i 

:-   . 


354  THE   INVADER'S   SON 

to  have  him  told.   While  she  sat  thinking,  the  butler 
brought  in  a  telegram. 

"From  Paul !"  she  exclaimed,  "we  shall  have  the 
news,  Raoul." 
She  read  aloud : 

"The  International  Republic  accom- 
plished. My  original  Constitution,  slightly 
amended,  has  been  adopted.  Sixteen  na- 
tions came  in  at  the  close — Japan  and 
China  last.  Provisional  officers  appointed, 
pending  election :  M.  Henri  Gamberonet, 
(Geneva,  President;  Lord  Pelmeston,  Lon- 
don, First  Vice-President;  James  Ander- 
son Fielding,  New  York,  Second  Vice- 
President. 

"Paul  Beauvais." 

At  the  same  time,  Yvonne  de  Robincourt  re- 
ceived the  identical  telegram,  with  the  following 
addition : 

"Your  lone  star  flag  was  unanimously 
adopted  by  the  Convention,  and  the  origi- 
nal ordered  encased  in  glass,  and  preserved 
in  this  building.  I  am  returning  at  once. 

"Paul  Beauvais." 

At  the  moment  Madame  Beauvais  and  her  hus- 
band were  discussing  business  and  Paul,  Jacob 
Lederfrank  was  communing  with  himself.  He  had 
also  become  tired  of  the  worry  of  business.  Trying 
to  be  fair  to  two  men  of  opposite  characters,  had 
become  a  burden.  He  had  never  taken  his  wife  into 


REALITIES  355 

confidence — she  knew  nothing  of  the  Beauvais 
secret, — the  responsibility  was  too  great  for  him  to 
bear.  He  would  not  go  further.  The  Count  von 
Eisenhendel,  since  the  recent  death  of  Dr.  Baden- 
heim,  expected  too  much  of  him.  The  German  noble- 
man was  overbearing — his  rash  conduct  might  at 
any  moment  involve  Lederfrank  in  complications* 
Therefore,  the  Jew  was  paying  the  penalty  that  all 
men  have  to  pay  for  double  dealing,  and  trembled 
with  fear  lest  he  be  found  out.  Weary  and  nervous, 
he  went  into  his  study,  and  wrcjte  as  follows  to  the 
Count : 

"My  dear  Count, — You  have  manipu- 
lated the  finances  of  the  business  in  such 
a  way — all  unknown  to  me — that  we  have 
reached  the  end.  I  have  no  heart  to  go  qn 
with  the  disguise.  M.  Beauvais  will  never 
give  up,  and  I  cannot  force  him.  Besides, 
the  mining  engineers  are  having-  great 
difficulty  in  procuring  sufficient  ore  to  run 
the  big  mills.  It  is  clear  that  we  shall  have 
to  break  the  rear  walls  of  the  mines  to  get 
into  our  reserves.  This  will  require 
money.  The  banks  will  not  help  us — our 
credit  is  gone,  and  debts  are  hanging  over 
the  company. 

"In  view  of  the  position,  I  tender  to  you 
my  resignation,  to  take  effect  ten  days 
from  date.  I  enclose  herewith  all  the 
shares  I  hold  in  trust  for  you,  properly 


356  THE   INVADER'S   SON 

endorsed,  and  you  will  also  find  the  papers 
of  interest  to  you. 

"You  will,  therefore,  best  serve  yourself 
by  appointing  an  able  man  at  once  to  come 
and  take  my  place.  My  decision  is  final, 
and  no  amount  of  persuasion  or  money  can 
induce  me  to  continue  this  dual  living. 
"Yours  faithfully, 

"Jacob  Lederfrank." 

When  M.  Beauvais  proposed  to  M.  Lederfrank, 
next  day,  the  sale  of  the  shares  on  the  basis  of  the 
original  agreement,  Lederfrank  showed  no  interest. 
He  made  the  same  laconic  reply :  "In  about  a  week 
I  shall  give  you  an  answer." 

Beauvais  asked  him :  "Have  you  ever  taken  par- 
ticular notice  of  Herr  von  Essenhendel,  at  the 
bank?" 

Lederfrank  did  not  reply  at  once.  He  was  afraid 
Beauvais  might  be  on  the  eve  of  uncovering  the 
scheme. 

"Did  you  understand  my  question?"  asked  Beau- 
vais with  spirit. 

"Yes;  I  was  only  trying  to  remember  if  I  had 
noticed  anything  in  particular." 

"I've  ben  told,"  said  Beauvais,  endeavoring  to 
think  as  he  spoke,  "that  this  young  German  is 
more  or  less  implicated  with  the  cause  of  our  busi- 
ness troubles,  although  I  can't  see  how,  and  I 
thought  it  proper  to  call  it  to  your  attention." 
"He  may  be,  Raoul.  It  seems  everyone  is  against 


REALITIES  357 

us.  I'm  only  glad  that  most  of  our  employees  are 
scattered  over  the  various  countries,  so  as  to  be 
able  to  secure  something  to  do — in  case  the  closing 
becomes  necessary." 

The  Jew's  reply  seemed  to  satisfy  Beauvais,  and 
he  said : 

"Then  you  also  have  become  weary  of  the 
struggle !  And  yet,  Lederf rank,  a  magnificent  enter- 
prise is  somehow  caught  up  in  an  unseen  net.  It's 
a  puzzle — a  mystery  to  me.  I've  worried  myself  out 
of  my  mind  trying  to  locate  the  cause — there  seems 
to  have  been  a  conspiracy,  during  these  last  five  to 

seven  years,  to  ruin  us — but  why ?  When  Paul 

re-established  our  credit,  I  thought  we  could  see  a 
clear  road — but  no!  I  repeat — I  cannot  understand 
it !  There  must  be  an  explanation !" 

"You  have  indicated  your  willingness  to  sell  your 
shares.  I  don't  think  I  can  purchase  them,  but  if 
I  can  secure  an  opportunity  to  dispose  of  my  own, 
will  you  and  Paul  exercise  your  option,  or  free  me 
to  sell?" 

"Paul  will  be  here  tomorrow,  and  we  can  discuss 
the  option,"  replied  Beauvais. 

"Ask  him  to  come  to  the  office  tomorrow  at  eleven 
o'clock." 


CHAPTER  XXXI 

THE   OTHER    BATTLEFIELD 

JANUARY  icicles  hung  from  the  trees  and  house 
eaves,  and  sparkled  in  the  cold  morning  light.  Raoul 
and  Hermance  had  just  come  down  to  breakfast, 
and  stood  together  at  the  window  silently  gazing  out 
upon  the  snow-locked  world.  The  city  of  Ste. 
Genevieve,  with  its  smoking  factory  stacks,  the 
silent  Oise,  the  heights,  white  with  crystals,  and  the 
moving  crowds  of  bread-winners  in  the  thorough- 
fare below,  were  taken  in  with  a  sweep  of  their 
eyes.  It  was  late.  The  evening  before  on  returning 
from  the  last  conference  with  Leder frank,  Raoul 
had  found  Paul  back  from  the  long  session  of  the 
International  Convention.  He  and  Hermance  had 
waited  for  the  young  man  to  pay  a  visit  to  the  de 
Robincourt's,  and  then  sat  up  late  with  him  to  hear 
his  account  of  the  proceedings  that  secured  to 
civilization  the  guarantee  of  perpetual  peace  and 
prosperity.  Somehow  the  march  of  events,  crowned 
by  the  greatest  achievement  of  nations  co-operating 
in  concert,  cast  a  restful  spell  over  Raoul,  and  he 
felt  at  ease,  even  though  disaster  seemed  imminent 
to  the  industry  to  which  he  had  given  the  best  years 
of  his  life.  He  turned  to  his  wife,  and  said : 

"Hermance,  this  wintry  day  will  relegate  me  to 
retirement.    I  welcome  it.    My  struggle  has  been 

358 


THE  OTHER  BATTLEFIELD        359 

long  and  sustained;  there  is  nothing  more  I  can 
do.  I  shall  be  happy  with  you." 

Hermance  put  her  arms  about  his  neck  and  kissed 
him. 

"You've  done  well,  Raoul.  We  were  poor — you 
have  worked  and  earned  plenty  for  us;  we  were 
alone — you  have  made  it  possible  for  our  children 
to  get  started  in  callings  and  professions  suited  to 
each.  They'll  be  a  comfort  to  us." 

"There  is  one  regret  I  have,  Hermance.  Please 
don't  misunderstand  me.  I  deplore  the  spirit  in  me 
that  has  rebelled  against  Paul.  I  wish  I  could  tear 
that  bitterness  out  of  my  heart!" 

"Oh!  I'm  so  glad  to  hear  you  speak  that  way, 
Raoul;  after  all  these  years!" 

"Yes,  I  do  feel  it,  Hermance.  He  is  really  a  great 
man,  and  his  future  is  yet  before  him.  It's  strange 
I  should  have  been  so  cruel  to  him,  but  I  couldn't 
help  it.  The  resentment  became  a  part  of  me.  I 
was  furious  because  my  own  had  disappointed  me." 

"If  you  will  try  only  a  little,  you  will  forget. 
Paul  does  not  see  that  you  have  begun  to  admire 
him,  but  it  will  not  take  him  long  to  note  the 
change — then  he  will  quickly  respond." 

"I'm  sure,"  the  gray-haired  man  of  business  said, 
"if  he  could  have  known  in  recent  years  his  real 
father,  I  believe  he  would  have  chosen  me  as  his 
friend." 

Hermance  was  touched  by  the  odd  tenacity  with 
which  he  held  to  the  cajuse  of  his  disappointment — 


360  THE   INVADER'S   SON 

he  had  narrowed  it  down  to  a  choice  on  the  part  of 
Paul. 

"You  have  no  doubt,  have  you,  Raoul  ?" 

"Yes,  and  no.  I've  given  Paul  occasion  to  dislike 
me.  Then  blood! — blood  counts.'' 

"But  Paul  is  French — he  is  my  child  entirely; 
he  has  given  himself  to  work  for  the  glory  of 
France." 

"Yes,  yes."  The  man  withdrew  himself  into  his 
own  thoughts.  Then  as  if  talking  to  someone  absent, 
he  said:  "However,  I  remember  Madame  Mores- 
tier's  prophecy.  It  has  been  running  through  my 
mind  during  these  last  months — since  I  have  evi- 
dence of  Paul's  unselfish  disposition.  If  you  recall, 
she  indicated  there  would  come  a  time  when  per- 
haps he  may  be  called  upon  to  choose  between  France 
and  Germany — but  the  International  Republic  puts 
that  out  of  the  way.  I'm  wondering!" 

"Put  it  from  you  today,  Raoul.  Attend  to  closing 
up  your  business,  and  then  perhaps  another  day  may 
be  clearer." 

"There  is  one  request  I  have  to  make  to  you, 
Hermance.  That  bit  of  brown  paper  you  have 
framed  and  hung  here  by  the  bed,  destroy  it,  for 
my  sake.  It  annoys  me.  I  know  you  prize  it  as  a 
memento  of  the  battlefield,  but  it  was  written  with 
a  German's  blood.  Put  it  from  us.  When  this  fine 
German  and  I  fought  in  the  trench  that  night,  and 
decided  to  leave  one  another  without  continuing  the 
fight,  it  was  agreed  we  might  meet  on  another  battle- 


THE  OTHER  BATTLEFIELD        361 

field.  It  may  be  my  trial  has  been  the  other  battle- 
field— if  so,  I'm  not  the  victor.  I  do  not  want  hate 
to  linger  longer  with  me." 

As  he  continued  speaking,  she  obeyed.  The  note 
of  brown  paper  was  taken  from  the  gilt  frame,  and 
she  put  a  lighted  match  to  it  and  watched  it  burn. 
The  ashes  she  blew  off  the  dish  into  the  icy  wind 
without,  where  the  particles  danced  uncertainly  for 
a  second,  and  then  scattered  away  to  the  hills. 

The  breakfast  gong  sounded,  and  Raoul  and  Her- 
mance  went  to  meet  the  two  daughters  and  Paul, 
who  were  waiting  at  the  table. 

"Oh,  papa,  when  ever  have  you  been  so  late?" 
cried  Pefr'fe-Hermance.  It's  so  nice  to  have  you  with 
us  like — like — like  one  of  us!" 

They  smiled  at  the  utterance  of  the  pet  of  the 
family. 

Once  they  were  seated  about  the  table,  Marie  be- 
gan to  laugh  at  Paul.  She  kept  it  up  for  some  time. 

"You  may  as  well  tell  us,  Paul — we  must  know 
in  a  few  days  anyway." 

The  father  looked  at  Marie,  and  entered  into  her 
spirit  of  merriment. 

"She  wants  me  to  name  my  wedding  day,"  said 
Paul,  taking  courage. 

Raoul  cleared  his  throat,  and  really  struggled  to 
look  natural,  as  he  said :  "We  should  all  know  the 
day." 

"Certainly,  Paul,"  added  the  mother. 

"January  28th,  at  two  o'clock  in  the  afternoon 


362  THE  INVADER'S   SON 

at  St.  Joseph's,"  admitted  Paul  proudly.  "The  in- 
vitations will  be  issued  tomorrow  or  the  day  after." 
There  was  a  hearty  round  of  congratulations, 
which  delayed  the  breakfast.  Each  one  had  some- 
thing special  to  say,  and  /Vfr'te-Hermance  again 
excited  laughter  with  her  gushing  way  of  putting 
her  comments. 

"You're  lucky,  Paul,"  in  conclusion,  "except  in 
one  particular." 

"And  pray  what  is  that?"  asked  Madame  Beau- 
vais. 

"Oh,  the  gruff  old  father-in-law — he  and  papa 
will  not  be  able  to  visit!" 

M.  Beauvais  could  not  restrain  from  laughing 
whole-heartedly — for  he  and  de  Robincourt  were 
still  enemies. 

But  while   they  enjoyed   Pefr'te-Hermance's   re- 
mark, a  letter  came  from  de  Robincourt,  addressed 
to  M.  Raoul  Beauvais,  and  the  family  sat  at  fixed 
attention  while  it  was  read : 
"My  dear  Friend : 

"You  will  not  object  to  this  letter,  I 
hope,  when  I  admit  I  have  forgotten  the 
exact  cause  of  our  disagreement  over  poli- 
tics, and  have  consequently  long  ago  re- 
membered only  the  pleasures  of  our  days 
of  friendship. 

"Your  son  has  probably  told  you  that 
I  have  given  him  my  daughter,  notwith- 
standing the  fact  of  his  having  defeated  me 


THE  OTHER  BATTLEFIELD        363 

so  overwhelmingly  in  the  election.  It  is, 
therefore,  proper  that  our  families  should 
be  united  in  good  will  one  towards  the 
other. 

"I  shall  call  to  see  you  on  Thursday,  the 
day  after  tomorrow,  and  that  evening  I  beg 
the  honor  of  having  you  and  your  family 
to  dine  at  my  chateau. 

"Madame  de  Robincourt  and  Mademoi- 
selle Yvonne  join  with  me  in  kindly  greet- 
ings, and  I  remain 

"Yours  sincerely, 

"Pierre  de  Robincourt." 

"I  withdraw  my  comment!"  exclaimed  Petite- 
Hermance.  "Of  course,  we  shall  go,  mamma! 
Mamma,  you  and  papa  accept  at  once.  I  shall  bring 
the  writing  materials." 

From  these  delightful  scenes,  Raoul  and  Paul 
went  to  face  the  last  act  in  the  drama  of  the  phos- 
phate mines.  Raoul  had  not  mentioned  the  business, 
but  as  they  walked  away  from  the  Chateau  Mores- 
tier,  he  changed  his  habit  of  years,  gracefully  un- 
bended as  he  went,  and  told  the  young  man  what 
had  taken  place. 

"It's  a  shame  to  give  up  the  enterprise,  but  I 
believe  your  decision  is  wise  under  the  circum- 
stances," said  Paul.  "I  do  not  think  we  should 
attempt  to  exercise  our  option.  For  some  reason 
the  industrial  has  been  greatly  handicapped  for  sev- 
eral years.  I  doubt  our  ability  to  interest  large 


364  THE   INVADER'S   SON 

capital  in  it — the  business  has  fallen  off;  the  organ- 
ization is  more  or  less  affected — capitalists  may 
think  it  unusual  that  we  are  not  able  to  give  an 
explanation." 

"Why !  there  comes  Lederfrank  to  meet  us,"  said 
Raoul,  looking  at  Paul.  Something  has  happened 
— notice  he  is  walking  excitedly — very  extraordi- 
nary for  Lederfrank." 

"Your  shares  are  sold,  Raoul — for  cash!  The 
money  is  now  in  the  office,  if  you  want  to  sell." 
Alarm  was  written  all  over  the  Jew. 

"Good  morning,  M.  Lederfrank,"  said  Paul, 
taking  no  notice  of  the  Hebrew's  state. 

"Oh,  good  morning,  Paul — you  will  excuse  me; 
such  a  business!  such  a  business!  Your  father  and 
I  have  been  most  excited  for  weeks,  and  in  the 
prospect  of  getting  it  settled,  I  forgot  you  had  been 
away.  I'm  glad,  very  glad  to  see  you." 

"Why  are  you  upset?"  asked  Raoul.  "Are  you 
purchasing  my  shares?" 

"No,  no;  that's  the  reason  of  my  flurry — a  big 
man, — how  shall  I  say  it?  a  hard  man  to  deal  with 
is  there  to  take  over  the  business.  He's  not  such 
a  hard  man  either,  but  please  promise  to  go  easy 
with  him — for  my  sake." 

"You're  talking  like  a  crazy  man,  Lederfrank," 
said  Raoul.  "What's  the  trouble?" 

"There's  no  trouble.  It's  cash  you  want.  It  is 
all  there  ready,  and  lucky  you  are.  I'm  getting  out 
too  late  probably,  but  I'm  leaving  today  myself. 


THE  OTHER  BATTLEFIELD         365 

Only  be  easy  with  this  big  fellow — hard  man,  I 
say,  and  yet  generous.  I  think  he  has  good  inten- 
tions towards  Paul." 

"Saere!  Who  is  this  man  of  whom  you  seem  so 
much  afraid?"  demanded  Raoul. 

"He's  the  Count  von  Essenhendel! — he  has  just 
come  from  the  Rhine." 

Raoul  and  Paul  exchanged  glances. 

"I'll  go  back  to  him  while  you're  coming.  I 
slipped  away  to  give  you  the  news  before  you 
arrived." 

Raoul  and  Paul  slackened  pace  to  give  the  over- 
wrought Jew  time  to  return. 

"What  does  this  mean?"  asked  Paul. 

"I've  no  idea.  I  know  no  more  of  it  than  you. 
There  has  come  lately  to  Ste.  Genevieve  a  young 
banker  by  the  name  of  von  Essenhendel,  is  the  only 
explanation  I  can  offer. 

The  two  men  went  on  straight  to  the  office,  and 
entered  as  if  prepared  to  begin  the  daily  routine. 

Lederfrank  bustled  up,  and  said : 

"Just  come  over  here,  gentlemen,  I  wish  to  intro- 
duce you  to  a  friend  with  whom  I  have  had  con- 
siderable correspondence." 

The  stage  play  of  his  voice  was  evident. 

A  tall,  broad-shouldered  men  of  a  flabby  but 
distingue  appearance,  got  up  with  difficulty,  strug- 
gling under  the  weight  of  corpulence.  He  came  for- 
ward shambling  like  a  fat  bear. 

"Allow  me,   M.   Raoul   Beauvais  and   M.   Paul 


366  THE   INVADER'S   SON 

Beauvais  to  present  my  friend,  the  Count  Frederick 
Wilhelm  von  Essenhendel." 

The  Frenchman  bowed  politely,  but  stiffly — there 
was  even  a  suggestion  of  coldness. 

"It  is  a  wintry  day  what  you  have,"  said  the 
German,  after  expressing  himself  as  pleased  at  meet- 
ing the  two  men  of  whom  he  admitted  M.  Leder- 
frank  had  often  written. 

"Only  an  average  January  day,"  said  Raoul, 
evincing  an  inclination  to  hurry  on  the  interview. 

Count  von  Essenhendel  detected  the  resentment. 

"I've  come  to  purchase  your  shares  in  this  busi- 
ness," said  the  Count.  "I  now  own  the  shares  for- 
merly held  by  your  associate,  M.  Lederfrank.  I 
understand  you  wish  to  sell." 

Had  there  been  any  hesitancy  on  the  part  of  Raoul 
and  Paul  to  sell,  it  would  have  vanished  with  the 
announcement  that  the  Count  held  the  controlling 
interest. 

"I  was  not  aware,"  said  Paul,  "that  my  option 
had  expired — the  option  I  arranged  for  my  father 
to  purchase  M.  Lederfrank's  shares." 

"It  was  my  mistake,  Paul — I  had,  well " 

"You  mean,  M.  Lederfrank,"  said  Paul,  deliber- 
ately, "you  had  a  prior  obligation  with  the  Count 
von  Essenhendel?" 

"You're  right!"  said  the  Count,  beginning  tc 
laugh  in  a  heavy  guffaw  key. 

"Come  into  my  private  office,  gentlemen,"  said 
Raoul  Beauvais,  beginning  to  show  irritation. 


THE  OTHER  BATTLEFIELD        367 

They  entered,  and  took  seats. 

"Do  I  understand,"  said  Raoul,  rather  tersely, 
"that  you  had  an  agreement  with  the  Count  von 
Eisenhendel  almost  a  year  ago,  and  yet  executed 
this  option  to  me  and  my  son?" 

Lederfrank  winced,  and  stirred  his  feet  uneasily 
— his  eyes  wandered  to  the  red-faced  Count. 

The  Count  answered  merely  by  shaking  in  a 
chuckle,  and  Lederfrank's  discomfort  increased. 

"Under-handed  proceeding!"  said  Paul,  in  rising 
anger. 

"And  the  coming  of  your  son  to  the  bank,"  said 
Raoul  somewhat  fiercely,  "had  a  significance,  I 
assume!" 

"Looking  after  my  interests,"  replied  the  Count 
in  a  sudden  savage  snap. 

This  retort  was  as  disturbing  as  the  fire  of  a  re- 
volver. The  very  air  in  the  office  changed  in  a 
second  of  time. 

"And  do  you  expect  me  to  sell  you  my  shares, 
after  you  have  schemed  for  a  year  to  wreck  the 
business,  making  my  giving  up  a  certainty!  A 
Frenchman  is  never  a  puppy!  Bah!" 

The  Count  had  planned  to  be  smooth  in  his  nego- 
tiations, but  the  abrupt  lapse  in  his  temper  had 
spoiled  it  all — he  lost  hold  of  himself,  and  pre- 
pared to  bulldoze  his  way  through. 

"I've  been  your  benefactor,  sir,  for  years.  This 
business  was  originally  built  with  my  money.  This 
cringing  Jew  at  my  side  had  not  a  penny.  I  fur- 


368  THE   INVADER'S   SON 

nished  his  money — I've  loaned  you  yours!  You 
restored  your  chateau  with  my  money! — you — 
you !" 

"Impossible!"  Raoul  sprang  to  his  feet,  and 
pushed  his  chair  to  one  side. 

"For  my  sake,  gentlemen! — for  my  sake !" 

begged  Lederfrank. 

The  Count  was  puffing  like  a  pursuing  wild  beast. 
He  ran  on 

"It  is  not  your  choice — I  hold  the  mortgages  on 
the  plant! — I  can  foreclose  in  twenty- four  hours. 
I  come  to  you  as  an  honorable  man,  and  offer  to 
pay  you  cash  for  your  shares — after  giving  you  the 
benefit  of  my  money  for  twenty  years — what  would 
you!" 

"Oh,  that  I  should  see  this  day!"  whined  Leder- 
frank. 

"Get  out  of  the  way,  sir!"  stormed  the  Count. 
"You  did  your  duty.  These  men  are  both  debtors 
to  you — they  can't  reproach  you!  I  don't!  Hold 
your  tongue — let  me  settle  this — you've  done  no 
wrong — nor  have  I!" 

A  moment  of  awkward  silence  followed.  Raoul 
and  Paul  were  both  too  astounded  to  say  a  word. 
They  could  not  comprehend  why  the  German  had 
been  so  generous. 

The  Count  wheezed  and  coughed,  and  the  per- 
spiration rolled  off  his  forehead. 

"There  is  your  money,  sir!"  shouted  the  Count, 
slapping  a  large  canvas  bag  down  on  the  end  of 


THE  OTHER  BATTLEFIELD        369 

Raoul's  desk.  Count  it,  and  deliver  to  me  your 
shares!" 

"I  must  know  more  about  this  proceeding,"  said 
Raoul,  white  with  rage,  "before  I  do  anything." 

"So!  and  you  don't  think  you  know  enough  al- 
ready!" roared  the  Count,  blazing  like  a  furnace. 

"Sir,"  said  Paul  stepping  between  the  men,  "your 
conduct  is  very,  very  offensive.  If  you  will  be 
seated,  you  may  be  allowed  to  explain  yourself. 
This  office  is  my  father's  until  he  parts  with  it,  and 
if  you  cannot  be  a  gentleman,  I  shall  put  you  into 
the  street." 

The  ring  in  this  strong  man's  voice  calmed  the 
overwrought,  excited  German,  and  he  flounced  into 
a  chair. 

"I  shall  explain  then,  if  you  wish  it,"  started  in 
the  Count,  blowing  and  swelling  the  while. 

"You  will  not  require  me,  will  you  ?"  asked  Leder- 
frank,  scurrying  for  the  door  as  fast  as  he  could. 

"Stay!"  yelled  the  nobleman,  catching  Leder- 
f rank's  coat  as  he  passed.  "Damn  it!  you've  stolen 
nothing — you've  harmed  no  one.  Stay !  you've  been 
a  friend  to  these  men.  They  can  charge  you  with 
no  crime.  What  the  devil  are  you  trembling  for! — 
it's  not  like  you!  Sit  down  !" 

Raoul  and  Paul  looked  on  in  amazement. 

Then  the  Count  began  the  story.  It  was  as  though 
he  measured  the  dangers  of  his  leap  and  past  eventu- 
alities with  determination. 

"I  sent  for  Jacob  Leder frank  years  ago.    I  had 


370  THE   INVADER'S   SON 

met  him  in  Paris.  My  family  has  known  his  for  at 
least  three  generations.  I  offered  to  furnish  him 
money  with  which  to  go  into  business.  He  came  to 
this  city — a  small  village  then — and  after  a  time, 
appeared  at  my  castle  on  the  Rhine,  and  told  me 
about  these  phosphate  mines  you  and  he  had  dis- 
covered together.  Well,  I  put  up  the  money.  My 
lawyer  drew  the  original  agreement.  From  time  to 
time,  Lederfrank  communicated  to  me  your  needs 
and  the  requirements  of  the  business,  and  I  fur- 
nished the  necessary  funds.  You  paid  it  back.  You 
have  grown  rich  off  of  the  investment — so  has 
Lederfrank,  although  he  had  not  a  penny  in  it — and 
my  returns  satisfied  me  more  than  all  the  cash  I 
advanced  during  the  entire  period.  You  earned  all 
you  got.  You  discovered  the  mines;  your  business 
ability  has  been  worth  your  earnings.  I  have  my 
money  back  with  interest — you  owe  me  nothing. 
I  was  your  unknown  benefactor,  and  I  see  no  reason 
why  we  should  quarrel  because  I  want  the  business 
for  my  son, — and  you  have  agreed  to  sell  your 
shares  at  par." 

"But  why  should  Jacob  Lederfrank  deceive  me 
all  these  years?" 

"For  your  own  good,  M.  Beauvais.  I  advised 
him  to  say  the  money  was  his — when  he  told  me 
of  you,  I  was  sure  you  would  not  accept  help  from 
me,  and  I  made  it  obligatory  for  Lederfrank  that 
he  play  this  part.  He  has  done  it  well.  Not  once 
have  I  visited  him  here — I  have  not  sent  an  auditor 


THE  OTHER  BATTLEFIELD        371 

— I  have  had  no  spy.  Only  when  you  were  so  un- 
reasonable about  parting  with  your  shares  did  I 
send  my  son  to  the  bank  to  look  after  my  interests. 
Through  a  series  of  complications  in  the  business, 
which  no  man  could  understand  or  explain,  it  now 
falls  out  you  have  come  to  the  end  of  your  ropes. 
As  the  benefactor  of  both  of  you,  I  claim  I  have  a 
right  to  pay  you  out  whole,  and  take  the  business  and 
resuscitate  it — am  I  not  right?" 

"If  there's  truth  in  what  you  say,"  said  Paul, 
coolly,  "I  suppose  you  are  right." 

The  Count's  face  became  purple,  but  he  let  the 
remark  pass  unnoticed. 

"What  shall  I  do?"  asked  Raoul  of  Paul. 

"Let  him  have  the  shares." 

Raoul  went  to  the  safe,  and  got  the  certificates. 
They  were  promptly  transferred,  and  passed  over  to 
the  Count.  The  bag  of  money  was  emptied — the 
amount  was  exact.  Raoul  put  it  back  into  the  re- 
ceptacle, and  handed  it  to  Paul,  saying:  "Take 
charge  of  it  for  the  present." 

The  corporation  books  were  called  for,  and  cer- 
tain entries  made.  Then  the  Count  signed  some 
papers. 

M.  Beauvais  and  Paul  got  up,  and  put  on  their 
coats,  making  ready  to  leave  the  building;  but  both 
of  them  were  moving  mechanically,  as  if  not 
thoroughly  assured  of  having  done  the  right  thing. 

"I  have  not  finished,"  said  the  Count,  with  a 
show  of  pomp  in  his  manner. 


372  THE   INVADER'S   SON 

"What  else  would  you  ask?  If  there  are  addi- 
tional papers "  Raoul  was  saying. 

"No,  no;  that  is  all  finished.  You  own  nothing 
here  now." 

"Well?"  asked  Paul. 

"It's  to  you,  I  would  speak.  Take  this,  and  then 
we  shall  discuss  it." 

"What  is  it?"  asked  Paul,  advancing  a  step. 

"You  can  read." 

Paul  took  the  paper  and  glanced  at  it,  and  his 
face  became  livid. 

"I  don't  understand  it!" 

"I  have  made  you  a  present  of  the  business — 
can't  you  read?" 

"But  I  don't  want  your  business!  I  can't  under- 
stand your  generosity !  There's  no  reason  why  you 
should  buy  my  father's  business,  and  then  give  it 
to  me!  Sir,  I  refuse  to  accept  it!" 

The  Count  had  been  so  conceited  on  the  certainty 
of  his  plan  that  he  was  not  prepared  for  refusal 
from  Paul.  He  could  not  comprehend  a  man  who 
would  refuse  a  fortune  in  one  lump — consequently, 
he  lost  his  temper. 

"You're  not  such  a  fool,  I  hope !"  he  said  stamp- 
ing. 

"You're  right,  however;  I  hope  I'm  not  such  a 
fool!  Why  should  you  give  it  to  me? — I  demand 
an  explanation!"  Paul's  anger  was  very  great. 

The  Count  again  saw  he  had  made  a  mistake. 
If  he  pressed  his  offer,  or  said  anything  rash,  the 


THE  OTHER  BATTLEFIELD         373 

pet  hobby  of  his  life  would  be  lost.  This  Paul  Beau- 
vais  was  no  ordinary  man.  Great  care  would  have 
to  be  taken,  if  success  were  to  be  attained.  There- 
fore, Count  von  Essenhendel  considered  before 
speaking. 

"I'm  sorry,  young  man,  you  misconstrue  my  in- 
tention. I  assure  you  what  I  propose  to  do  is  abso- 
lutely free  from  ulterior  motives.  It  may  be  my 
blustering  has  alienated  your  mind — or  put  me  in 
an  erroneous  light.  It's  only  my  way.  You  and  M. 
Beauvais  cannot  say  I  have  not  done  much  for  you. 
I  may  be  rough — even  hard  at  times,  but  I  have  been 
much  interested  in  your  progress,  and  M.  Leder- 
frank's  account  of  you  has  been  most  flattering. 
If  I  wish  to  endow  you  out  of  my  immense  fortune, 
after  aiding  your  family,  why  should  you  be  angry?" 

"I  don't  understand  it!"  said  Paul. 

"It's  the  German  way !"  flared  the  Count. 

"For. the  more  reason,  then,  it's  not  my  way!  I 
don't  know  why  you  should  first  help  my  father, 
and  then  oppress  him,  compelling  him  to  transfer 
his  shares  to  you,  and  afterwards  offer  to  give  them 
to  me  as  a  present.  It's  foolish  child's  play!  I 
could  never  accept  a  gift  coming  through  such 
meanderings.  Besides,  I'm  quite  capable  of  making 
my  own  fortune." 

"I  think  the  Count  means  well,"  said  Raoul.  "I've 
probably  been  hasty  myself.  I  don't  understand  his 
generosity  to  us,  but  I'm  grateful  for  what  he  has 
done.  His  loans  enabled  me  to  make  a  competence 


374  THE   INVADER'S   SON 

for  my  family.  I  repeat,  I  don't  understand  why 
he  should  have  done  these  things — I  don't  want  to 
go  and  have  him  feel  I  am  unappreciative.  It's  right 
you  should  refuse  his  offer,  whatever  may  be  his 
motive.  I  think  we  may  thank  him,  and  go  our 
way." 

The  Count,  when  analyzed  from  the  standpoint 
of  German  many-sidedness,  was  not  a  bad  man.  He 
usually  had  all  his  whims  granted;  his  will  was 
law,  but  he  really  meant  to  do  right,  only  it  must 
be  in  his  own  way.  If  he  were  opposed,  he  became 
unreasonable.  Early  in  life,  he  repented  of  his  great 
sin,  and  in  his  ingenious,  but  generous  scheming, 
had  gone  as  far  as  he  knew  how  to  make  recompense. 
If  Lederfrank  had  not  reported  Beauvais'  jealousy 
to  him,  it  might  not  have  brought  to  the  surface  his 
baser  traits.  He  determined  by  means,  far  from 
foul,  to  put  Paul  into  possession  of  the  business, 
lest  Beauvais,  in  distributing  his  fortune,  might 
decide  to  be  unfair.  The  business  had  been  created 
for  Paul,  more  than  for  Beauvais,  and  it  was  proper 
for  Paul  to  have  it  in  the  end.  That  was  the  light 
in  which  the  Count  saw  it,  and  whether  he  were 
right  or  wrong,  he  meant  to  humiliate  the  foster 
father  in  the  presence  of  the  young  man;  but  when 
face  to  face  with  the  individuals,  he  found  their 
points  of  view  and  dispositions  entirely  different 
from  what  he  had  expected. 

"I'm  glad  you  do  appreciate,"  said  the  Count, 
feelingly,  taking  Raoul's  extended  hand — after  a 


THE  OTHER  BATTLEFIELD        375 

short  moment  of  hesitation.  "This  has  been  the  one 
work  of  my  lifetime,  and  has  given  me  infinite  satis- 
faction. You  wonder  why  I  do  it.  Well,  I " 

The  Count  paused,  as  if  to  take  them,  into  con- 
fidence, and  tell  them  something.  He  continued: 

"If  you're  content,  I'm  happy.  Whatever  tran- 
spires, I  want  you  to  remember  me  as  a  man,  who 
tried  to  do  his  duty  to  you." 

Both  Raoul  and  Paul  were  embarrassed  by  this 
singular  turn  in  the  conference,  and  still  wonder- 
ing, thanked  their  strange  benefactor.  They  left  the 
room  together. 

The  Count  called  after  them,  running  out  in  the 
hallway. 

"You  may  think  better  of  my  offer  tomorrow." 

Scarcely  had  the  outer  door  been  closed,  when 
the  Count  sank  forward  on  the  floor.  Lederfrank, 
much  relieved  by  the  smooth  handling  of  the  deli- 
cate matter,  was  still  rubbing  his  hands  in  glee, 
when  he  heard  the  thump  of -a  falling  body.  He 
went  out  and  discovered  the  big  German  prostrated 
and  unconscious. 

He  ran  after  Raoul  and  Paul,  shouting:  "The 
Count  is  dead !  Come  quickly ! — he  is  dead !" 

"Go  for  Dr.  Joumonville!"  commanded  Raoul, 
scowling  at  the  nervous  Jew.  "He  has  probably  only 
fainted — go  on!  Don't  wait!" 

The  excitement  of  the  trip,  and  the  flurry  and 
argument  over  the  settlement  of  the  business  had 
brought  on  an  attack  of  heart  disease.  The  Count 


376  THE   INVADER'S   SON 

had  been  warned  by  his  doctor  to  be  careful,  but, 
as  in  everything  else,  he  did  as  he  liked. 

When  Raoul  and  Paul  got  to  him,  they  found 
him  still  breathing.  His  critical  condition  was  evi- 
dent. Clerks  were  called  from  the  general  offices 
of  the  building,  and  they  carried  the  Count  into  the 
private  office  and  laid  him  on  the  couch. 

"Go!"  he  said  to  those  who  had  borne  him  in — 
"leave  me  with  these  friends,"  indicating  Raoul  and 
Paul.  Paul  closed  the  door. 

"I'm  dying ! — I  feel  it  here,"  and  he  held  his  hand 
to  his  side.  "The  trip  was  too  much.  I  got  excited 
this " 

Another  spell  came  on,  and  they  thought  he  was 
gone,  but  the  wonderful  physique  of  the  man,  still 
virile  and  strong,  momentarily  snatched  him  back 
from  the  last  door. 

"This  is  all — I  must  talk  fast.  I  have  much  to 
say." 

"We've  sent  for  the  Doctor,"  said  Paul. 

"It's  no  use — a  doctor  cannot  save  me.  Listen  to 
me,  young  man — come  near  me,  both  of  you." 

His  words  were  in  whisper,  and  Raoul  and  Paul 
knelt  by  him — to  hear. 

"Young  man,  reconsider  my  offer.  But  hear  me 
first.  M.  Beauvais  there  is  not  your  father." 

Raoul  jumped  to  his  feet. 

Paul  looked  at  the  Count,  but  did  not  move. 

"Listen  to  a  dying  man,"  said  the  Count.  "I'm 
your  father,  Paul.  M.  Beauvais  will  tell  you,  you 


THE  OTHER  BATTLEFIELD        377 

are  the  son  of  a  German  soldier.  Because  of  that  I 
have  been  trying  to  help  you  in  material  things.  I 
have  done  all  I  could  to  pay  for  the  wrong." 

Raoul  Beauvais  shook  with  rage.  He  could  not 
speak.  He  glared  at  the  prostrate  Count  as  though 
he  would  spring  upon  him. 

"I've  built  the  business  with  my  own  money  to 
give  it  to  you,  after  M.  Beauvais'  fortune  was 
made.  Acknowledge  me  as  your  father,  and  take 
the  business." 

The  surprised  young  man  could  not  find  words  to 
express  his  feelings.  Hoarsely,  he  stammered: 

"Father,  is  this  true?" 

"Yes!"  the  infuriated  man  replied.  Choose!  The 
rascal  is  asking  you  to  choose." 

"But  I  can't!  This  is  not  true!"  cried  Paul  in 
anguish. 

"It  is  true!"  asserted  Raoul. 

"Then  why  didn't  you  tell  me !" 

"It  is  too  late  to  quarrel,"  said  the  Count,  plead- 
ing, "I  must  hurry.  Will  you  be  my  son? — will  you 
acknowledge  me?" 

"No!  I'm  a  Frenchman — I've  known  no  other 
man  as  father  except  this  one.  I  cannot — I  will  not 
accept  your  offer.  I  have  a  right  to  choose — Raoul 
Beauvais  shall  always  be  my  father.  I  don't  know 
this  strange  tale,  but  I  spurn  you,  even  though  you 
are  dying.  You  insult  me  with  your  offer." 

"Forgive  me,  then!    I — I " 

Dr.  Joumonville  came  in  quickly,  and  began  work- 


378  THE   INVADER'S   SON 

ing  with  the  man.  The  tenacious  Count  opened  his 
eyes  again,  and  there  was  appeal  in  every  furrowed 
line  of  his  face. 

"You  can  forgive — come  to  me,  both  of  you — 
tell  me  you  forgive  me !  You,  Raoul  Beauvais !" 

"Whatever  he  has  done,  forgive  him,"  said  Dr. 
Joumonville. 

"No  one  knows — not  one  of  my  family.  The 
business,  yes,  but  not  the  other — Lederfrank,  yes." 

His  breathing  was  more  difficult.  "Let  him  die 
after  being  forgiven." 

But  Raoul  turned  away,  and  stood  by  the  window. 

"Have  you  ever  seen  me  before?"  asked  the  Count 
>vith  greater  effort. 

"Never!"  replied  Raoul. 

Paul  looked  on,  still  dazed  and  horrified. 

"Yes,  Beauvais,  we  have  met  before.  You  and 
I  fought  in  the  Great  War  of  1914.  We  fought  each 
other  in  the  trench  one  night,  in  the  'Battle  of  the 
Rivers.'  We  agreed  to  go  each  his  way,  and  to 
meet  on  'another  battlefield.'  We  met  today,  and  I 
leave  you  the  victor — he  chooses  to  be  your  son!" 

The  soldier,  the  determined,  forceful  nobleman 
of  the  Rhine,  the  man  with  many  faults  and  gross 
habits,  strangely  mixed  with  good  impulses,  closed 
his  eyes  murmuring: 

"I  delivered  your  message,  written  with  my 
blood;  ask  her  to  forgive  me!" 


CHAPTER  XXXII 

A  NEW  BOND 

IN  the  presence  of  death,  while  Jacob  Lederfrank 
went  to  seek  the  Count's  son  at  the  bank,  Raoul 
Beauvais,  Paul  Beauvais,  and  Dr.  Joumonville  sat 
and  reviewed  the  story  of  the  Invader's  Son.  Dr. 
Joumonville  told  it  from  the  beginning  to  the  end, 
omitting  no  detail;  and  Raoul  Beauvais  confessed 
to  his  disappointment,  acknowledged  the  change 
Paul  had  himself  wrought,  and  rejoiced  that  he  had 
been  chosen  as  the  father. 

The  Invader's  Son  heard  them  through;  his  head 
bowed,  and  his  thoughts  troubled.  A  veil  of  mys- 
tery was  lifted.  He  saw  the  reasons  for  the  bitter- 
ness and  disappointments  of  the  past.  A  shudder 
swept  his  frame  when  his  eyes  wandered  to  the  body 
stretched  on  the  couch.  On  the  horizon  of  his  future, 
a  dark  cloud  formed,  obscuring  the  way,  and  chang- 
ing the  bright  day  of  his  youth  into  night.  But 
out  of  the  sadness  of  his  heart — sprang  a  greater 
love  for  Raoul  Beauvais.  He  got  up  and  went  over 
to  the  foster  father,  and  said: 

"Why  didn't  you  send  me  to  a  waif's  home? — 
you  would  have  been  spared  much  of  your  suffer- 
ing." 

Raoul,  his  eyes  glistening  with  tears,  laid  his 
hands  on  Paul's  shoulders,  and  replied: 

379 


380  THE   INVADER'S   SON 

"You  are  my  son  now! — you've  won  me  bit  by 
bit,  and  your  last  act  has  overwhelmed  me.  I'm 
proud  of  you,  Paul!  This  awful  thing  has  ended 
and  welded  a  new  bond  between  us.  Never  ask  me 
why  I  didn't  send  you  away!  Dr.  Joumonville  has 
told  you — you  know  the  secrets  good  Father  Pelle- 
tier  and  old  Dr.  Joumonville  carried  to  their  graves, 
and  how  they  regarded  the  incidents  connected  with 
your  babyhood;  you  have  seen  me  struggling  to 
overcome  the  human  prejudices  of  a  father;  and 
you  have  the  fidelity  of  Dr.  Anson  Joumonville,  who 
honors  you,  and  is  your  friend.  Forget  the  past. 
You  are  my  son  forever! — the  first  in  my  house- 
hold, the  first  in  everything.  You  are  the  glory  of 
your  mother,  the  noblest  woman  in  France." 

Paul  wept. 

"It  is  better  for  me  to  go  now,"  he  said.  "I  can- 
not remain  longer." 

Out  into  the  gloom  of  the  winter's  day,  cold  and 
dreary  from  an  approaching  storm,  Paul  Beauvais 
plunged  to  wander  and  think.  He  walked  rapidly 
down  the  left  bank  of  the  Oise,  not  observing  any 
passerby,  and  caring  not  whither  he  went.  His  mind 
was  numb  with  the  problem  of  his  life.  He  was 
not  what  people  believed  him  to  be — he  was 
nourished  by  the  blood  of  the  enemy  of  France. 
Should  he  marry  Mademoiselle  Yvonne?  Would 
she  not  spurn  him  as  he  had  rejected  the  nobleman 
who  had  dared  to  crave  his  filial  acknowledgment 
at  death  ?  But  it  would  be  easy  to  break  the  engage- 


'A  'NEW  BOND  381 

ment,  for  M.  Pierre  de  Robincourt  would  hotly 
turn  him  from  the  door.  How  could  he  endure 
the  sting!  Mademoiselle  Yvonne,  of  course,  would 
not  marry  him — although  she  could  not  prevent  his 
Jove  from  going  on  as  long  as  life  endured.  Oh, 
the  shame  of  his  state! — but  not  his  fault.  Why 
must  it  be  so  in  the  dawn  of  his  manhood?  Why 
could  he  not  have  died?  Why  should  he  have 
clreamed,  and  then  had  its  brilliant  lure  snatched 
from  him  forever?  Why  should  his  hopes  be  so 
quickly  blighted?  How  much  better  would  it  have 
been  had  he  always  known  his  origin !  Why  should 
he,  of  all  men,  have  written  a  constitution  for  the 
[World  of  Peace?  These  questions,  and  a  thousand 
Other  gloomy  thoughts,  cluttered  his  mind,  and 
caused  his  head  to  ache.  His  steps  had  carried  him 
ifar  out  of  the  city.  He  trudged  along  in  the  deep 
snow  of  the  river  forest,  and  gave  himself  over  to 
the  feverish  fit  of  his  heated  brain.  Cedar  boughs 
looped  the  pathway,  hovering  lower  as  the  falling 
snow  thickened  their  drapery;  the  ground,  heavily 
cushioned  with  millions  of  feathery  flakes,  was 
screened  from  the  cruel  pinch  of  the  cold;  there 
was  not  a  tread,  or  the  rumble  of  a  cart,  or  the 
roar  of  a  train,  to  disturb  the  slumber  of  nature; 
fiocks  of  birds  huddled  in  the  shelter  of  evergreens, 
but  not  one  tried  to  chirp;  and  a  solid  crystal  sheet 
had  been  spread  over  the  surface  of  the  Oise  to 
muffle  the  gurgling  of  the  waters. 

It  was  into  this  haven  of  quietude,  bereft  of  the 


382  THE   INVADER'S   SON 

noise  of  men,  of  creatures,  and  of  the  whispers  of 
things,  that  Paul  Beauvais  had  come  to  reconstruct 
his  plans.  He  stopped  and  let  the  peace  of  the  wood 
fill  his  soul.  Courage  began  to  roll  back  the  murky 
tide  of  despair.  After  a  long  time,  and  many  sighs 
and  hesitations,  he  turned  and  faced  Ste.  Genevieve 
again.  One  thought  saved  him  from  a  deeper  plunge 
into  gloom — always  his  life  had  been  clean;  always 
his  thoughts  had  been  just;  always  he  had  been 
truthful  and  upright.  These  were  the  jewelled  bear- 
ings in  the  machinery  of  his  life.  Judgment  mounted 
the  throne  of  the  young  man's  mind.  "Go,  man, 
and  lay  your  case  before  Yvonne,  for  so  have  men 
done  from  the  beginning!"  the  clean-cut  faculty  said, 
and  Paul  Beauvais  brightened  in  countenance,  and 
hastened  to  retrace  his  steps.  At  the  edge  of  the 
city,  he  climbed  the  Heights,  and  came  the  quicker 
to  the  Chateau  Morestier. 

"Mother!"  he  said,  entering  the  room  where 
Raoul  and  Hermance  were  gazing  abstractedly  on 
the  last  act  of  the  enthralling  tragedy  of  their  lives, 
"father  has  told  you.  I  know  all,  and  yet  you  have 
not  hated  me." 

He  kissed  her,  and  told  her  for  the  millionth  time 
of  his  unfathomable  love,  and  that  he  could  never 
forget  the  debt  he  owed  her — but  she  dried  the 
burst  of  tears,  and  put  her  hands  over  his  mouth 
to  repress  him. 

"Nothing  matters  now,  Paul,  since  Raoul  loves 
you  also,  and  you  belong  to  us  forever!" 


A  NEW  BOND  383 

"Yes,  yes;  and  I'm  French — I  shall  live  for  you 
and  father  and  France." 

"And  for ?" 

"Ah,  that  must  yet  be  decided/' 

"Must  you  tell  her?"  asked  Raoul. 

"Yes;  and  will  you  come  with  me  to  M.  de  Robin- 
court's?" 

"After  dinner,  this  evening." 

And  in  the  interval,  the  body  of  the  Count  was 
removed  by  his  son,  Otto,  and  shipped  immediately 
to  the  Rhine.  The  heir  did  not  want  any  mention  of 
it  in  the  papers,  except  that  required  by  law. 

During  the  afternoon,  also,  while  Jacob  Leder- 
frank  and  Otto  von  Essenhendel  were  making 
hurried  arrangements,  the  prospecting  engineers  of 
the  mines,  and  the  engineer  chief  entered  the  office 
to  report  on  the  outcome  of  their  investigations,  and 
especially  on  the  ore  reserves.  They  had  been  ex- 
amining the  mines  for  months,  and  had  only  com- 
pleted the  work  that  day.  They  said  the  beds  of 
phosphate  were  exhausted.  What  had  always  been 
considered  unlimited  banks,  proved  to  be  mere 
pockets  of  low-grade  deposits,  which  could  not  be 
of  use  in  the  manufacture  of  fertilizer.  Therefore, 
the  technical  advisers  said  the  mines  should  be 
closed,  and  the  machinery  dismantled  and  sold  while 
it  was  yet  comparatively  new  and  in  good  condition, 

Lederfrank  commenced  the  winding  up  of  the 
business.  The  office  staff  was  set  to  work  to  clean 
out  the  rubbish  of  years. 


384  THE   INVADER'S   SON 

Through  Lederfrank,  Raoul  Beauvais  offered  to 
return  the  purchase  price  for  the  shares,  but  it  was 
refused.  The  young  German  said  his  father  knew 
very  well  the  mines  were  being  investigated,  that 
there  was  a  chance  of  failure,  and  he  did  not  pro- 
pose to  undo  the  last  business  transaction  of  the  old 
Count.  Everybody  had  money,  and  the  machinery 
would  pay  out  all  debts. 

In  the  afternoon,  a  messenger  was  sent  to  M. 
de  Robincourt's  to  announce  the  coming  of  Paul 
and  his  father  in  the  evening.  Hence,  when  they 
arrived  about  nine  o'clock,  the  old  Seer  of  the  Oise 
— and  his  daughter — waited  expectantly,  one  for  an 
old  friend,  and  one  for  her  lover. 

The  fire  of  coals  burned  brightly  in  the  wide 
grate  in  M.  Pierre  de  Robincourt's  den.  On  the 
table  were  liquors  and  cordials,  and  boxes  of  cigars. 
The  incandescent  lights  under  colored  globes,  shed 
soft  brilliancy  into  every  nook  of  the  large  chamber, 
the  rendezvous  of  noblemen  and  statesmen  since 
the  time  of  Louis  XI.  The  man  of  iron,  his  huge 
body  as  firm  and  hard  as  one  of  the  ancient  Gallic 
warriors,  waited  impatiently  while  Raoul  Beauvais 
detailed  the  story  of  Paul's  origin.  The  young  mart 
sat  bolt  upright,  riveting  his  eyes  on  the  severe 
ex-Deputy,  and  watching  the  darkening  lines  on 
the  old  fellow's  forehead.  Only  once  had  de  Robin- 
court  said  anything  since  Raoul  began,  and  that 
was:  "The  devil  and  frontier  life!"  As  the  tale 
proceeded,  related  by  a  man  who  was  neither  sup- 


A  NEW  BOND  385 

pliant  nor  favor-seeking,  De  Robincourt  got  up  and 
walked  stiffly  about  the  clear  space  before  the  fire. 
He  showed  plainly  that  he  was  bored — he  wanted  it 
done  with.  Paul  expected  him  to  turn  upon  them 
fiercely  at  any  moment,  and  say:  "It  is  finished!" 
Raoul  concluded  without  delay,  and  merely  sug- 
gested that  his  son  awaited  the  decision  of  M.  Pierre 
de  Robincourt. 

The  father  and  son  knew  that  De  Robincourt  never 
did  anything  in  a  hurry — his  worst  blasts  of  fury 
were  always  cruelly  poured  out  after  long  and  cold 
deliberation.  A  pause  of  two  minutes  followed,  with 
ominous  possibilities.  Raoul  and  Paul  both  glanced 
helplessly  at  each  other  in  a  sort  of  defiant  resigna- 
tion. 

"Do  you  like  those  cigars?"  bellowed  de  Robin- 
court. 

Paul  started  and  dropped  the  one  he  had  been 
smoking. 

"Have  another — they  come  to  me  by  the  thou- 
sand," said  the  relegated  statesman,  kicking  the 
fallen  cigar  into  the  grate. 

Another  half  minute  ticked  off,  and  de  Robin- 
court's  face  was  as  inscrutable  as  ever. 

"I  suppose  the  interview  is  ended,"  said  Raoul 
Beauvais,  disdaining  to  appear  anxious  to  hear  what 
de  Robincourt  might  say. 

"No!"  said  De  Robincourt,  in  his  characteristic, 
explosive  style. 

"Is  there  anything  further  you  would  know  of 


386  THE   INVADER'S   SON 

me?"  asked  Paul,  his  tones  suggestive  of  his  injured 
dignity. 

"No !"  came  the  blast  again. 

It  was  Raoul  Beauvais'  turn  to  assert  himself, 
and  he  said,  with  plenty  of  reserve: 

"We  take  it  that  a  suitable  arrangement  for  re- 
calling the  announcement  should  be  made." 

"You  take  nothing,  sir,  for  granted!" 

The  awkwardness  of  the  situation  was  becoming 
dangerous. 

Paul's  face  turned  crimson. 

"Yvonne!"  called  the  raw-boned  giant,  and  the 
sound  of  his  voice  seemed  to  go  through  a  dozen 
rooms. 

They  heard  her  footsteps  as  she  came  through  two 
sets  of  halls. 

"Yes,  papa,"  she  replied,  opening  a  small  crack 
in  the  door. 

"You  and  Madame  de  Robincourt  may  present 
yourselves  in  the  Norman  Room. 

"Yes,  papa,"  she  said  sweetly,  and  tripped  away. 

The  puzzle  deepened.  M.  Pierre  de  Robincourt, 
though  terrifying  and  gruff  in  speech,  was  a  model 
of  dignity.  He  was  also,  on  this  occasion,  a  perfect 
gentleman — a  polished  representative  of  the  old 
school.  He  was  probably  unconscious  of  the  fact 
that  his  voice  sounded  like  the  roar  of  a  lion.  After 
Mademoiselle  Yvonne  had  gone,  he  picked  up  a 
bright  bottle  of  precious  liquor,  and  began  filling 
the  glasses,  while  all  suspicion  of  disapproval  left 
him. 


A  NEW  BOND  387 

"Well !"  he  said,  when  each  held  his  goblet,  ready 
to  drink,  "you  would  know  my  answer?" 

"Yes,"  said  Paul. 

"Young  man,  I  am  an  Invader's  Son  of  1870!" 

The  moment  was  as  if  the  walls  of  the  palace  had 
suddenly  been  removed.  Raoul  and  Paul  involun- 
tarily arose  and  stood  transfixed. 

M.  de  Robincourt  clicked  his  glass  against  Raoul 
Beauvais',  saying  in  his  natural  voice : 

"You  and  I,  sir,  will  drink  to  the  health  of  my 
son-in-law  to  be!"  Then  touching  Paul's  glass  with 
a  sharp  ring,  "And  to  you,  Paul,  I  drink  to  the 
greatest  Frenchman  of  the  age.  Take  her  with  my 
blessings !" 

A  servant  tapped  at  the  door.  "It  is  quite  ready, 
sir." 

"Come !"  said  Pierre  de  Robincourt,  "a  little  sup- 
per in  the  Norman  Room  will  do  us  good." 

An  hour  later,  while  they  yet  lingered  at  the  table, 
a  messenger  arrived  from  the  Chateau  Morestier 
with  a  telegram  for  M.  Paul  Beauvais.  He  read  it 
and  passed  it  on  to  M.  de  Robincourt,  who  made 
known  its  contents.  It  was  from  the  President  of 
the  International  Republic,  informing  Paul  that  he 
had  been  chosen  a  member  of  the  first  cabinet,  as 
Secretary  of  State. 

"Accept  it,  sir,"  said  De  Robincourt,  "you  are  the 
man  for  the  place." 

THE  END. 


UC SOUTHERN  REOONALUW 


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